Cataclysm: Kalamanda Rising
by ValkyrieLead
Summary: Drawn into a plot by his arch nemesis, Swain, Jarvan IV now faces tensions growing across Valoran and a powder keg developing in the sleepy village of Kalamanda. With the death of the Dragon, Kampf, Jarvan and Shyvana are set to return to Demacia, but their adventure has only just begun... Sequel to Cataclysm of the Dragonborn.
1. Prologue: Lurkings

_The Ivory Ward... but why the Ivory Ward? What or who was there that could have caused him to disappear?_

Katarina Du Couteau frowned as she leaned backwards at her desk, propping the chair she was perched upon back onto two legs. She stared up at the opulent red ceiling, the color a deep, deep red in flickering light of the hextech lanterns upon the wall and the orange light that show through the window. A violently orange sun began to set over the top of the Darkbourne Hold, the mountain fortress the dominated Noxus' skyline. Katarina stared at the fortress with her mind drawn to those held within.

"Someone within that keep is responsible for what happened to you father." Katarina whispered under her breath. "I won't rest until I find out who..."

Katarina picked up the picture that was sitting on her desk, running her hand across the photo held in the frame. With red hair as violent and bloody as her own, and emerald green eyes that gleamed as bright as the smile that dominated his face. Katarina hadn't been more than fifteen or sixteen in the photo, but she rose up to just above her father's elbow, her arms crossed over her chest and her cheek puffed out in a look of indignation that fit the younger reflection of herself a bit too well. Sitting on one shoulder, Cassiopea's dark brown hair gleams and a bright smile shown on her face as she wrapped her small arms around her father's head to hold on. Talon was hanging under his father's arm, anger marring his face at the way he was being treated like luggage.

_They were twelve here... Talon and Cassi, and things were so much simpler._

It had been so long since Katarina had seen her father. Work and assignments had kept them from seeing each other for so long and now this. She shuddered as her shoulders sank.

_What couldn't you tell me that was so important you have to completely vanish from this air?_

She let the chair fall forward as her hand snuck the the blade upon her thigh. Hidden by the desk as the chair landed on all fours, she turned towards the door, her eyes narrowed to vicious slits.

A knock came at the door as she sent the chair crashing to the ground, jumping to her feet. Katarina jumped when the chair hit the ground, her heart racing.

_Easy self... easy._ She took a deep breath and let her heart slow, picking the chair up and setting it at her desk. "Enter."

"Katarina?" Talon pushed the door open and stepped in, his purple cloak sweeping in around him like a billowing shadow. "It seems Cassi has finally fallen asleep." His hood was pulled low over his brow, his face lost amid the darkness of the room.

"And the maid didn't die?" Katarina's hand slid away from the blade as she exhaled and dropped back to her seat and kicked the chair back up onto two legs.

"For once." Talon nodded. His gaze landed upon the picture that lay in the middle of Katarina's desk. "Kata..."

"I thought I told you not to call me that?" She snapped and raised an eyebrow as she shot him a perturbed look. "We're not kids anymore you know."

"Then why do you let that Demacian call you by that name? The knight... Garen, wasn't it?" Talon smirked, barely visible in the dim light. Katarina glared at him, anger sparkling in her green eyes. Talon chuckled and then raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry. A courier just arrived with a letter for you." He produced a heavy parchment envelope from within his cloak, the glittering blade upon his forearm clattering as he moved. Katarina accepted the letter from him and turned it over, the rough parchment paper weighty in her hand as she ran her eyes over the red wax seal that decorated the back. Simple red text read '_Katarina Du Couteau_' on the front.

A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Did the courier say anything about the letter?"

"He said it was urgent, but nothing more regarding the letter." He grinned, showing pearly white teeth. "He was insistent that this be delivered to your hands, but I managed to convince him I was... _trustworthy."_

Katarina rolled her eyes as she broke the seal. "There's a reason the courier is never the same more than once in a row." Talon chuckled, the deep sound nearly as sharp as his blade. Katarina unfolded the letter and let her eyes fly over the text, written in a fitting blood red color.

"What's it say?" Talon growled after silence settled over the room.

"It's a summons..." Katarina murmured, a frown continuing to mar her brow. "They're going to announce the replacement to father within the High Command this evening. I've been _cordially_ invited and I've been given _privilege_ to invite a friend." The sting in her voice reflected just what she thought about the summons.

"I thought you had convinced them to suspend their decision till something definitive had been determined. To my knowledge, still nothing has been uncovered." Talon stood up straight, unease tightening his shoulder blades. Katarina pushed herself up from her chair, sliding the leather jacket from her shoulders and moving towards her closet, shrugging. The leather jacket ended up on the floor next to her bed, amid a sea of other clothing articles, pieces of parchment and books.

"So had I." Katarina mused as she pulled the door open and stepped inside, starting to toss shirts and jackets out onto her four-poster bed. "Apparently the High Command has amended their decision." Katarina emerged from the closet with a red jacket of a vague military styling held over her chest with one hand. She stepped in front of the mirror on her vanity and frowned at the red jacket. She let it fall away and then held an emerald green Jacket to her chest. Katarina looked at herself in the mirror.

Red hair framed her face, swept back behind her shoulders and green eyes glittered in the dim light. A faint pink scar ran vertically over her left eye, starting high on her forehead and then curving gently down to end below the crest of her cheekbone. Katarina had never disliked the scar; she thought it made her look menacing and dangerous, something that had saved her trouble many times and earned her more in others. She sighed and turned to Talon, holding both jackets in hand.

"Which one?" She said, flipping back and forth between the two.

"You're kidding me right?" Talon blanked, blinking several times before he ran a hand over his face with a groan. Katarina shrugged and then tossed both garments over her shoulder, one landing on the bed, the other the floor. She disappeared into the closet again. "What about the uniform you were issued? I thought you had been given that for occasions like this." Katarina frowned as she stared at her wardrobe. Her father had bought her a few dressed here and there for special occasions, but this wasn't an occasion of the sort. She wanted to make an impact, but she didn't want to send the wrong message. Her usually clothes would have been fine but it wouldn't serve to send any message at all, and that itself could send a bad message. She dug around and finally uncovered a box that held the uniform she had been given.

"Kat, you alright?" Talon frowned; silence this long usually ended in corpses, and as he looked around again. _This much of a mess will make it difficult to clean up all the blood. _Katarina stepped out, tightening a belt on her hip. She tugged one glove up her arm, and then tugged the other on, smoothing the high collar out and then tugging her red hair from the jacket, letting is cascade behind her. Though a bit overly decorative, the tight fitting purple and black Special Forces uniform fit her well. Talon let his eyes run over her once and then had to turn away to clear his mind. Katarina picked her black jacket up off the floor and raised it up around her shoulders. She looked to the frosted windowpanes and grimaced.

"You might want something a bit warmer." Talon echoed her thoughts, shrugging as he smoothed his cloak over his shoulders. Katarina nodded as she disappeared, producing a heavy black cloak that she wrapped over her shoulders.

"No reason to over dress, I suppose." Katarina said sarcastically as she grabbed the two swords hanging by leather belts from a coat rack near the door. She belted them in place, adjusting them till they were within easy grasp.

Katarina turned towards Talon. "Ready for trouble?"

A thin lipped grin slid onto Talon's face. "Let's finish this quickly."

Katarina swept out the front of her estate with Talon in tow, moving towards the center of Noxus. Though an evening haze has settled over the city, Darkbourne Mountain rose up over the city imperiously. Katarina looked up at the hollowed out mountain that dominated the landscape. An entire side of the mountain had been torn away, leaving several holes in a pattern that looked decidedly like the face of a skull. Though no official record had been made by the mining foreman who had originally hollowed out the mountain centuries before, Katarina had never been able to shake the feeling that it had been intentional for the sole purpose of frightening any enemy who dared approach. Perched atop the mountain was a massive fortress with towering walls adorned with spikes, its spires reaching up higher than any other point along the visible landscape.

_Darkbourne Keep._

Hidden deep within those mighty walls was the quarters of the current Grand General of Noxus, Boram Darkwill, who ruled over all of the Noxian Empire. Consisting of the twelve highest ranked generals in the Noxian command structure, the High Command of Noxus served as an advisory council to the Grand General on all of the actions and operations of Noxian interest Stretching from Ionia and the Freljord, all the way down to Bandle City and the Blue Flame Isles, Noxus had agents and agencies all across Valoran. With so many potential leaks and problems that could crop up at any moment, only the most trusted and powerful of figures were summoned to the depths of Darkbourne keep.

Katarina shivered as a gust of wind swept down the street. _If we've been invited, both of us, things must be truly dire._

"It feels like we're walking into a trap, doesn't it." Talon murmured, his voice low and lost upon the wind.

"Since when could you read minds?" Katarina glanced over a Talon as she turned her collar up against the December wind.

"I don't need to be able to read minds to be able to tell what you're thinking right now." Talon said with a smirk. Though barely a few inches taller than she was, for a brief moment Talon seeed to tower over her. Her fears of the worst served to amplify how vulnerable Katarina felt at the moment, leaving her sinking into his shadow. She hid the pain with scorn, glaring at the assassin, but the damage has already been done. "Kata..."

"I told you to stop calling me that." She hissed, hurrying her pace and hiding the pain away with indignation. "You may have been adopted into our family when you were still just a boy, but others will see that as weakness. Never show a Noxian your weakness."

The cold tone of her voice cut through Talon like polished steel. His face blanked and then returned in a mask of anger. "Fine, I'll drop it."

Katarina watched as he strode ahead, his shoulders again bunched up in anger beneath his cloak. Talon had been a rough cut little boy when her father had brought him home. Similar in age to Katarina's younger sister, the young man had proved almost as adept with a knife as Katarina and despite the trouble, he had come to fit right in. Katarina let a smile slide onto her face for a brief moment before she pushed up to match his pace again.

_I miss him too, Talon. You have no idea how much I miss father._

* * *

The sun had set and the lantern lighters were roaming the streets, the soft orange orbs glowing across the city that stretched out below them. Standing outside the main entrance to Darkbourne keep, atop the mountain that it was perched up, Katarina had a supreme view of the lands that surrounded Noxus, despite the evening haze that had settled upon the landscape. The rivers that spread out in every direction were haunting ribbons of silver, haphazardly strewn across the landscape. Mountains rose up in the distance, melding with darkened sky above, the snow capped peaks barely visible in the darkness.

"Mistress Katarina Du Couteau I presume?"

The voice was pompous and nasally, as if someone had shoved a sock so far up their nose it had lodged in their forehead. She turned and was met by a man in a military uniform with a nose so large it looked as if he had been born the son of a parrot. His cheeks were red against the sting of the wind and though his cloak bore the green and gold colors of the Noxian Military, he also wore the red and black accents of the Darkbourne Elite Guard. Captain's rank tabs gleamed upon the collar of his jacket, showing just inside his hood.

"Yes, Captain." Katarina nodded, finally acknowledging his question.

"You've been expected, ma'am." He looked down at a parchment scroll before he rolled it up and tucked it away into his jacket. "And brother?" Talon frowned but nodded, his arms crossed over his chest beneath his cloak. Where it had been cold in the streets of Noxus, atop Darkbourne mountain it was absolutely frigid. "You may come as well. This way please, Grand General Darkwilll is waiting."

"Did he now?" Talon snarled, rolling his eyes at the man's back as he turned to follow. Katarina shot him an angry look and Talon snapped his mouth shut before he could make another sarcastic remark.

"Oh yes." The officer glanced over his shoulder with a smile so greasy that Talon refused to open his mouth. "We should be quick, the council is waiting as well."

They swept in past the huge number of Guards posted at the main entrance and into the inner courtyard of the hold. Green and Golden banners hung all around the courtyard, though some looked decidedly worn against the weather. More guards stood stock still, as if they were statues. They stopped briefly outside the gate, and the captain presented the paperwork he held to the Guard of wore a crimson officers sash to inspect. They weren't waiting long before they were allowed to move through on though. A short stop marked another check point, the officer sweeping past them this time, only the guards eyes moving as they moved past. A pair of guards opened a massive, steel reinforced wooden door, granting the small party entrance to the main hall of the hold. Soft golden light flickered in the large entrance hallway, a worn statue standing sentinel at the far end of the hall. Towering nearly a hundred feet tall, the statue was a grim monolith to Noxian power.

_Grand General Howadin Berentheld, the first Grand General of Noxus._

They moved around the statue, the heavily polished stone gleaming even in the dim light. They entered a large doorway that had been hidden by the statue's width, more guards standing sentinel. The rest of the journey into the hold was a confusing maze of lefts and rights, up flights of step and down flights of steps, until both Katarina and Talon were thoroughly lost.

"Where the hell are we going?" Talon grumbled as they pressed deeper into the depths of the hold. Their guide's boots clopped on endlessly though, memory leading him through the maze without fault. Talon groaned as they passed more guards, each one towering over Talon and Katarina, their golden armor gleaming in the dim torch light. Their journey deposited them in a unsuspecting looking hallway that led further on, disappearing behind another corner, but the two guards that stood outside the door on the left side of the hall marked their destination.

"Go on in, you're expected." The captain motioned to the door, blocking the path deeper into the hold. The guards pushed the door open, granting Talon and Katarina entrance. Katarina shot a fleeting glance at the hook-billed man before she stepped into the darkened room. As they both moved into the darkness, the door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in a sea of darkness.

Motes of flame burst to life around the room, revealing a high desk of darkened wood that stretched around the circular room. Standing closer on towards the center of the room, a man clad in the Noxian colors stood patiently, a cane held at his side and a bird perched upon his shoulder. With oily black feathers, the bird's head rotated to look at Katarina as she moved forward to stand next to the man, watching her with a row of three glowing orange eyes.

"Swain." Katarina acknowledged the man with a curt nod, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to look down at her.

"Mistress Du Couteau." His voice was hard and gravelly, but there was an oiliness to it that matched his Raven's feathers. "Your father's disappearance has struck a great blow to Noxus. He will be missed."

"He isn't dead yet, Swain." Katarina shot back, the look in the man's eyes dialing back from cold and calculating to an even simmer. "I suspect that when he returns, you'll be the first to know."

"I eagerly await his return, then." Swain said, bowing his head ever so slightly in respect. Katarina forced a tight smile upon her lips.

"Where are the generals, this is the High Command's normal meeting place, right?" Talon leaned in and whispered, his eyes darting about the high desk that circled the room, the thirteen seats of the Noxian Grand General's advisory council empty.

"These chambers are used primarily for inquiries and trials, young man." Swain growled, looking up at the high desk. "Getting _invited_ in here is a rare honor you should relish, not question." Talon shot Swain a dirty look, but the Lieutenant General wasn't paying attention. High above them, behind the desk, a door had opened with a creak and the members of the advisory council had begun to file in. Each was escorted by a guard of varying stature, each decorated with an array of colorful armor and trophies.

"I recognize most of these men." Talon said under his voice, just loud enough for Katarina to hear him. "That's General Darius and his brother, Draven, known as the Blood Brothers of Noxus. And that's Chancellor Malek Hawkmoon, reigning general of the Ionian Occupation Campaign... if he's here then something really is up." Talon fell silent as he watched the council file in.

"It'd be best if you keep your mouth shut unless spoken to." Katarina hissed, turning slightly towards the assassin. Talon simply nodded, watching as twelve older men filed in and took their seats atop the desk, each looking down across the room. The door closed marking the end of the procession, leaving a single seat midway around the arc to the right absent.

Perched in the center most seat, the eldest of the group sat regally, looking down at the desk in front of him. With a mane of grizzled white hair, a short trimmed beard that gave his jaw a hardened edge, and piercing ice blue eyes, Boram Darkwill read over a piece of parchment. His quill danced over the parchment briefly before he set it down before him and then laced his hands together, staring down at the three Noxians who stood patiently waiting. Though his face was marred by wrinkles and showing the signs of his advanced age, Grand General Darkwill's eyes were as sharp as steel and gleamed almost white, even in the flickering golden light surrounding them. He pulled the spectacles from his face and set them gently upon the desk before him.

"Wecome back from the front, Lieutenant General Swain." Swain bowed his head in the general's direction and a smile slipped into his eyes. "I've heard great things about your recent exploits within the Institute of War, and your record speaks for itself." He waved a hand at his desk, gesturing to the piece of parchment he had set down there.

"The pleasure is mine, Grand General." Boram's gaze moved to Katarina.

"And the prodigious heir to the Du Couteau name." Darkwill's eyes darkened for a moment as he sat back and looked down his nose at Katarina. "And your adopted brother I assume?"

"Yes, Grand General." Katarina bowed and then shot a glance at Talon. The younger assassin looked surprised but bowed as well after a moment.

"How fares your younger sister? Cassiopea?" A smile began to spread upon his face at the look of surprise Katarina wore.

"She is fairing poorly still, Grand General." Katarina said reluctantly. "She stays trapped within her room at all hours of the day. Many of the servants that try to attend to her tend to end up... dead. Finding hired help has become... troublesome." Darkwill nodded, rubbing his palms together gingerly.

"A shame, she was the jewel of the Noxian court." Darkwill nodded. "Speaking of... Swain, I was told you were coming with an old friend of mine?" He glanced down at the Lieutenant General.

Swain nodded, and met the Grand General's gaze. "I was, but unfortunately she wasn't able to arrive on time." Swain bowed slightly in respect. "She sends her apologies and wished for me to convey a message that she would be running slightly late."

"Unfortunate." Darkwill nodded slightly, as if it had been expected. "But not unforeseen. We'll proceed then." He turned to look down at Katarina for a few moments. "I'm sorry to say, no news has been gleamed from our investigations into the disappearance of your Father, General Marcus Du Couteau. I understand you've been preoccupied with your duties to the Institute of War as well as your cooperative efforts with the affairs in Kalamanda." He glanced down at the sheet of parchment in front of him, and then his eyes strayed to another sheet. "Have your own investigations led to any new leads?"

"No." Katarina shook her head tersely. _So my absence was not wholly unmissed._

"Very well." Darkwill sighed softly. "That brings us to the matter of tonight's business." He paused a moment, looking left and right along the high desk that lorded over the room. "The Noxian High Command has suggested and I have decided unanimously that with the absence of General Marcus Du Couteau for this extended period of time, the promotion of a new General must be made for the good of the Noxian people." Darkwill paused a moment and met Katarina and Swain's gaze before continuing. "Unfortunately, with the absence of General Du Couteau coming close to nearly three months now, and the tense situations developing in Kalamanda, a new general will be promoted to fill the vacant slot."

"An appropriate move given the situation." Swain said, nodding. "With the prospect of war upon the horizon, and the aggressive actions of Prince Jarvan recently, in addition to their apparent alliance with the dragons, the odds are starting to stack against us."

"He has a point!" A voice emerged from the darkness of the council desk. "We can't fight dragons under the Institute of War, not without using ancient rune magics."

"We need someone strong to take decisive action against these threats!" Another, deeper voice suggested. "To cut them off from the source!"

"I asked Lieutenant General Swain to attend the meeting tonight with the intent of volunteering his name for this position." A deeper growl of a voice echoed from the far side of the room. Darius stood as he gestured to the seat that sat vacant towards the center of the half circle along the desk. "His long history of service to Noxus and gilded service record proves he is more than competent on the field of battle. His service within the Institute of War has proven he is a capable diplomat and representative of Noxus amid her sister nations. He is by and far the best suited choice to the successor to the late Marcus Du Couteau right now." Darkwill slammed his hand down onto the desk several times, silencing the chatter that had started amid the members of the High Command.

"Order." He practically shouted, his voice booming over the group. "Order." The room drifted to silence as the council regrouped and calmed itself. Darius, a smirk riding on his face, resumed his seat. Darkwill frowned, glaring at the relatively young general. "While you still maintain the junior most position upon this council, General I will accept this nomination, if the Lieutenant General accepts his name being put forth."

All eyes settled on Swain.

"It is a high mantle of responsibility, but I will gladly accept this challenge." Swain nodded sagely.

"Very well." Darkwill said, putting his hand down on the table firmly.

"Are there any qualms amid the High Command?" Darkwill glanced left and and right, looking for one of the eleven other voices to speak up amid the group.

"Perhaps the children of General Du Couteau will have something to say?" A female voice prompted, though deep, it rung true amid the silence. "This has substantial bearing upon them as well, and that is why you had then brought here, correct?"

"Isn't it normal for a waiting period of at least six months before a new general is nominated in the case of a murder?" Talon snarled, stepping forth and spreading his arms wide to get his point across. "Why the hell is this going so fast?"

"Talon!" Katarina snapped, glaring at him. The younger assassin frowned and took a step back, frowning but bowed his head.

"Apologies, I was out of place." Talon said quietly.

"Though poorly put, he has a point." Katarina said, glancing over at Swain. "I'm surprised High Command has advanced this fast without proper notification or ceremony. The High Command is usually on top of things like this."

"You may not be completely clued in to things right now, but there is more than meets the eye with Noxus' current political situation." Swain growled.

"I can answer for the will of my own council, thank you." General Darkwill said, looking down at Swain, the wrinkles tightening around his eyes.

The balding lieutenant general looked to the ground and bowed his head, taking a step back. "Pardon me for my outburst, Grand General."

"See that you mind yourself from now on." Darkwill said evenly.

"Sir." Swain said quietly.

"To address your concerns, Misstress Du Couteau." Darkwill looked back to the red-haired assassin. "Swain wasn't lying when he said that things were not as they seem right now. Demacia, Ionia and Piltover are all pressuring the Institute of War for a rematch to determine whether or not Noxus has the right to remain occupying Ionia. With the fear of losing our main source of minerals and a large portion of our food producing capability gripping the population, we will be forced to further our trade alliances with other nations, many of which are not supportive of the Invasion of Ionia seven years prior. That is why you were given the important task of securing a claim in Kalamanda. Those resources are going to be very important to Noxus soon. " Kataraina grimaced but silenced her complaints. "With such dark prospects in the future, we must show even the smallest mote of weakness to our enemies. Do you have any qualm with this logic?"

"No." Katarina grumbled. "I withdraw my argument, Grand General Darkwill."

"You say you withdrew your opinion, but your begrudging tone suggest otherwise." Darkwill said, looking down at Katarina with a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You may have grown, little Katarina, but I remember when you were barely up to my knee." Darkwill chuckled. "We won't stop our efforts to find your father. Marcus was a loyal friend and as loyal a son that Noxus has ever seen."

"Ahem." A voice coughed, and then Darkwill looked surprised.

"Apologies, I seem to be getting a bit nostalgic in my old age." Darkwill said with a soft chuckle.

"Thank you, general." Katarina said softly and took a step back. "I have no further qualms with the Lieutenant General's nomination.: She turned slightly towards Swain. "Congratulations, Lieutenant General." Swain nodded coldly, but he at least tried to appear gracious.

"We will now hold a vote." Darkwill said with a nod. "All in favor?"

Eleven purple motes of flame burned around him, one above each of the other eleven members. A red mote of flame burst to life above Darkwill's head. All of the flames swirled about above his head, coalescing into a single swirling ball of blue fire. It lowered down in front of Darkwill, settling on his hand, held before his face. His lips moved beneath his beard as he whispered into the flame. It burned bright for a second and then fizzles out into a charred piece of paper that fluttered to his hand. He returned his spectacles to his nose and then his eyes glanced at the parchment scrap. He sighed and then looked down at swain, return his spectacles to the table.

"Very well, the votes are unanimous." Darkwill stood up and looked down at Swain. "Congratulations on your promotion to the High Command. With your promotion comes the rank of General. It is long overdue that we recognize your many accomplishments, your cunning, and, above all, your unwavering loyalty to the Empire and to the High Command."

A round of applause started with Darius and slowly carried through the room. A smile carried through Swain's eyes as he looked up as if he had won a great victory.

"Thank you all for your vote of confidence." Swain crooned. "I swear upon my life as a son of Noxus that this will be the beginning of a period of good fortune and untold strength for Noxus." His Raven cawed and then settled back onto his shoulder.

"Well put." There was a chorus of agreements before Swain settled his cane in front of him, still smiling.

"I know this was rather short term, but I hope all of you will be able to stay and enjoy some refreshments." General Darkwill said as a piece of parchment was placed in front of him by a soldier in a Noxian guardsman's uniform. Darkwill's eyes raced over the text and then he nodded, picking up his quill, scribbling something across the bottom, nodding definitively. "And with that, it's official. A proper ceremony will be arranged for the following week."

Katarina shifted uncomfortably, looking at Talon. He growled, but stared at the ground, his hand clenched into fists.

_I know the feeling._

* * *

"So what happened to our guest of honor?"

A single voice echoed the groups thoughts in the small reception hall that had been prepared for the aftermath of the events of that evening. The head cook of Darkbourne Hold had been rousted from his slumber to prepare some food for the guests. Lain out about the room on opulently dressed tables, massive plates of food covered every surface, and a small bar was fully stocked to serve those who need to quench their thirst. Many of the attendees now carried wine in golden goblets and some stuffed their face with Hors d'oeuvres. Darius and Draven spoke boastfully with the other generals, many who surrounded the brothers desiring tales of their exploits, hoping to with their favor and avoid the fell of Darius' ax.

Off to the side of the room, Katarina leaned against the wall and Talon stood sullenly by, watching as the bureaucrats went about their mixing and mingling. Idle chattered drifted around the air, a roaring fire warding off the winter chill on the far end of the room.

"I feel out of place." Talon grumbled, looking about with disgust rife upon his expression.

"You used to attend social functions like this with my father, didn't you?" Katarina said, switching feet, raising one and pressing it against the wall as she glanced around the room. She wasn't at home amid the politicians either. She had attended balls before, but it usually ended in blood. Her sister was the one adept in the subversive art of politicking and seduction. Katarina preferred methods that were a bit more... _direct._ She sighed, feeling uncomfortable.

"I did." Talon said quietly, his hand hovering over his forearm where his blade was. "But I was there as protection, not a somebody's plus one. I sat in the shadows or the rafters, watching... waiting."

"Hmmph." Katarina nodded towards the door, her cat like instincts as sharp as ever. The doors cracked open and a guard pushed the door open as in hobbled Swain, his raven on one shoulder and a woman on his free arm.

"Who is that?" Talon murmured under his breath, standing up slightly straighter than before.

"I don't know, I've never seen her before." Katarina narrowed her eyes as she glared at the woman. Clad in a skin tight green dress that clung to her body and stretched from her neck to the floor, she was was a sight to behold. Though tight, the dress was slit high on each thigh, revealing long legs perched upon tall heals. Black hair gleamed in the light, and her supple chest bounced with every step. She wore long gloves that ended high on her arms that were the same color as her golden eyes. Purple lipstick marked her lips and marks just under eyes gave her an exotic look, and she wore a single black rose tied back in her bun.

"I don't know either, but damn if she isn't good looking." Talon wore a grin on his face, leaning back, pulling his hood back on his head to get a better look.

"Is that so?"

"YEEOUCH!" Talon snarled, bouncing up on one foot as Katarina turned away and stalked off, her arms crossed over her chest. He hopped after her, holding a foot in both hands, the steel boot mashed down, a pattern distinctive to Katarina's boot matching it. "What the hell was that for?" Katarina ignored him, moving towards the group that had started to form. She stepped up next to Boram Darkwill who leaned heavily on a cane of his own.

"Ah, young Katarina, how are you enjoying the party?" General Darkwill said, looking down at the red-headed assassin. She shrugged.

"It is not to my tastes, to be perfectly honest, but your chef is quite the master." Katarina said, smiling a politely as she could.

"Succinctly put, young one." Darkwill said with a chuckle. "Your father was the same way, all business and never able to enjoy the... _finer_ things in life."

"Speaking of, who is that woman, I don't believe I've ever met her before." Katarina posted a fist on one hip and frowned.

"She was a peer of mine at the Noxian Military Academy." General Darkwill said, letting a frown cross his face for a moment. "Though for years, she hasn't bothered to come out of seclusion."

"She was a peer?" Katarina raised an eyebrow, frowning. "She hardly looks a day over twenty."

"Yes, indeed..." Darkwill's voice trailed off as his gaze darkened for a moment. The mood seemed to lightened as a smile spread over his face and he moved towards her. "Emilia LeBlanc, you truly are a vision."

_Leblanc?_

Katarina looked to Talon, his pain gone, a hardened mask sliding over his face, the realization washing over him as well. He nodded quietly at her, and she knew it was time to go. Darkwill pushed through the small cluster of people and spread his arms in an inviting gesture. He took her hand in his and kissed it once, smiling back and forth from Swain to LeBlanc. "How many years has it been, Emilia?"

"Twenty, easily, Boram." Emilia said, a smile settling upon her purple lips.

"How did you and the new General here come to be acquainted?" Darkwill wore an easy smile, some of the age washing from his face, though the years still showed heavily upon his face compared to his academy peer.

"I think it's about time we left." Katarina growled under her breath. Talon nodded and they slowly began making their way to the door.

"...It wasn't long after that when we met." Swain recalled, looking up at the ceiling as if he were summoning a long lost memory. "We exchange mail every once in a while, and have remained friends since the occasion."

"How grand." Darkwill boomed, a smile still dominating his face. He glanced around the room and spied Katarina moving slowly towards the door. "Leaving so soon, Miss Du Couteau? The party has only just begun!" Katarina was frozen in her tracks but she put on a smile and turned to look towards Darkwill. Her gaze swept across LeBlanc's eyes and Katarina felt electricity run through her veins as the entire world around her froze. Flames froze mid flicker, chatter froze in the air without tone, mouths ajar mid sentence, actions completely stalled mid action.

Silence and utter stillness filled a void around her.

"You may wish to watch out in the future." LeBlanc purred, an imperious smile upon her face.

"What'd you do!" Katarina snapped, glancing around. Talon's face was frozen mid snarl as Leblanc moved towards her, circling her slowly like an animal on the prowl. Katarina was unable to move anything but her eyes, watching as LeBlanc moved around her, drifting in and out of reach. Katarina tried to move her arms but she felt like her entire body was made of lead, getting dragged down, weighed down by solid lead upon her arms. "What is this?"

"It's simply a little trick I picked up in the Institute of War." LeBlanc swept in and ran a finger over Katarina's cheek. Her finger ran over the scar that marked Katarina's left eye, drifting down along her jaw. LeBlanc tapped Katarina on the chin once with her finger tip and paused slightly, looking down her nose at her fellow countrywoman. Her gaze lingered on Katarina for a moment before she moved on, looking to Talon with hungry eyes. "Such a handsome young man... what a treat he would be." LeBlanc took a step back and smiled, her gaze moving up and down the frozen assassin's form. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to him..."

LeBlanc's smile sent ice coursing through Katarina's vein and caused dread to pool in her stomach.

"You're going to threaten me by trying to get at me through my family..." Katarina hissed angrily.

"I always hated veiled threats." Leblanc examined her gloved finger tips, working them slowly. "While I do prefer the fun of smoke and mirrors myself, sometimes you must cut a problem off at the roots."

"What do you want?" Katarina growled after a snarl of anger died in her throat.

"Oh, but I haven't even said what I was going to do to him." LeBlanc reached into his hood and brushed a lock of his long brown hair from his face. "Such a strong, firm young man like this... he's right where I want him."

"I can only imagine." Katarina snarled, her voice dripping with disgust. "What do you want?"

"Not even going to play a little bit?" LeBlanc pouted. Katarina rolled her eyes. "You're no fun at all."

"Bite me, you old hag!" Katarina snapped, fire now burning in her eyes.

"There's the fight I so enjoy." LeBlanc hissed, her voice wavering, her breathing growing heavy as if she enjoyed this torture far too much.

LeBlanc's glare turned to stone.

Suddenly it was gone, pure ice in her expression. Her eyes darkened and her gaze was like that of a gorgon. Katarina felt the anger in her heart turn to fear in an instant. "Stay out of our way, little girl. Noxus is now embarking on a road to success and you can't do anything to stop it."

"Where is my father!" Katarina shouted, her body jerking as she struggled against the powerful magic spell.

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know..." LeBlanc laughed, the sound chilly and cruel. "Behave and I might tell you."

"Fine!" Katarina growled, her anger muted. "Just tell me where he is."

"I will when this is all over." LeBlanc smiled as she pulled the rose from her hair, telling her black hair cascade around her face, veiling it in a darkness that was inhuman. She slid forward and slid the black rose into the lapel of Katarina's jacket. She patted it fondly, smiling cruelly as she did. "Until then, you'll do your best not to meddle in our plans." Katarina's gaze strode to Swain. "Oh, and regarding the idiot prince... I'll take care of him, don't worry." LeBlanc's smile cut through Katarina as she moved back to Swain's arm. "And young miss Katarina, just so you know... there's no escape."

The world around her began to move again.

"Miss Katarina?" General Darkwill looked concerned. "Are you feeling well?"

"Ah." Katarina felt sweat beading upon her brow. She looked to LeBlanc, who feigned a mask of concern like the others. _I see how it is._

Katarina forced a smile onto her face, though she hand to clench her hands behind her back to hide the trembling. "I feel a bit under the weather, honestly General. I was going to retire to my family's manor for the evening. I'm afraid this winter weather doesn't agree with me."

"A pity." General Darkwill said, nodding. "I wish you good health."

"Thank you, general." Katarina bowed. "And you as well. If you'll excuse me." Katarina spun as Talon bowed and swept after her, Katarina's pace threatening to break into a run as she stepped into the hallway.

_I need to get out of here..._

* * *

"What was that all about?" Talon grumbled as they emerged outside of Darkbourne Hold.

_I can't tell him about LeBlanc... about what she threatened to do to Talon... to Jarvan..._ Katarina forced a smile onto her face.

"It's nothing, I just needed some fresh air." She said striding towards the cliff and stopping at the low wall the protected pedestrians from the sheer cliff. "I find social functions like that so stuffy and unbearable." Katarina spun and collapsed on the stone wall, looking down at her hands, each quivering in a mix of hatred and fear. She let her head rest in her hands for a moment, shivering.

_L is LeBlanc... She was the one who was orchestrating all of this _A frown darkened Katarina's brow as she pulled her hood up against the wind. _What interest does LeBlanc have in all of this? And what of Swain? Surely he's involved as well..._

"So this LeBlanc character, you really think she's the one?" Talon said with a low voice, standing off to one side and staring out over the city.

"She might be, yes." Katarina said, putting on a fake smile, that was marked with anger. "Though I don't have any evidence."

"A pity." Talon grumbled, he paused and growled, scratching his head. "There was something I forgot to mention earlier because of the courier. My digging for information finally turned something up on that wannabee assassin from a month ago, the one who tried to silence Prince Blockhead and his pet dragon." Katarina looked up at him, and though she could see anger on her face, surprise dominated her expression. She shook her head and then looked back at him, her eyes sharper than before.

"What'd you find?" Katarina said, looking up to meet Talon's gaze with narrowed eyes. _I might not be able to do anything now... but it won't hurt to have hard proof when I need it._

"Turned out his was actually from Zaun, a disgruntled miner." Talon shrugged. "When the ore ran out the mine he worked in closed down and his family ran out of money. Not all that out of the ordinary, right?" Katarina nodded, it didn't seen all that strange. "Well I got to thinking, and it wouldn't be too difficult to tie the miner's motives to that of the rising tensions in Kalamanda. You saw how easily Swain used The Prince and his Pet for his own motives." Katarina's glare darkened as she recalled the words Swain had twisted about.

"Why would a miner have motive though?" Katarina frowned. "The target was Jarvan IV, not a mine executive."

"I highly doubt he knew that when he attacked." Talon said with a shrug. "And besides, with all of the talks in Kalamanda right now, it wouldn't be impossible for the miner to try and disturb the efforts there to decide who gets the mining rights. It be easy to spin it as a crime of passion."

"That is true..." Katarina sighed as she pushed herself to her feet, opening and closing her fists several times.

"Shall I follow the lead up and keep digging?" Talon asked, looking over at her.

Katarina shook her head. "We've got enough to worry about right now. Leave it." Talon looked surprised for a moment but then shrugged it off.

"Fine by me." He looked back over the city, spots of light illuminating the city below in a soft orange glow. "But what about...?"

"Prince Jarvan and Shyvana can take care of themselves." Katarina started walking down the cobblestone walkway, her hands buried deep in her cloak to hide her nerves. She paused and looked out over the westward sky.

..._At least I hope they can..._


	2. Chapter 1: Demacia

"Garen! Don't do it!" Jarvan shouted, struggling against the guards that held him.

"Prince Jarvan..." Garen looked over his shoulder, his sword still clutched in both hands, held to Shyvana's throat. He looked at his childhood friend, and the distress upon his face. Garen had to look away, the happiness he had felt at being reunited with his childhood friend now drained from his body. "...Apologies, my friend."

"Finish it, Captain Crownguard." The king ordered, his voice firm. Lady Catherine looked from her husband to her son and then to the ruby haired young woman who lay upon the ground, a sword at her throat.

"Father, no!" Jarvan IV snarled. Hatred swirled in his eyes as he stared up at the elder Lightshield, struggling against his wardens. "What the hell do you want, damnit? I didn't think even you'd do something this underhanded!"

"Keep him restrained!" Jarvan III snapped back with equal anger, watching as the gold, blue and white armored Demacian soldiers struggled with his disobedient son. They held their lances across the prince's chest, crossed and braced, but as the prince continued to struggle, the men were starting to give. _He's grown much stronger..._ Jarvan III let his expression mellow as he watched his son struggle as one of the strongest Champion of Demacia stood over a young woman who looked out of place amid the Demacian court. A crowd of staff had gathered around the terrace to watch the commotion, and Jarvan III surveyed them with a smirk. _It won't serve any purpose to do this in front of so many, but it must be done._ The king rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword which sat in its sheath upon his hip. "Captain Crownguard, you have your orders. Do it. There isn't a place in Demacia for the likes of a weakling like her."

"Jarvan..." Lady Catherine started to reach out to her son, but Jarvan III put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, shaking his head. Anger welled in her eyes as she stared up at her husband. "Why are you tormenting him like this, Trey?"

"Silence Catherine." Jarvan III ordered, glaring at his wife. "This is a battle, and she lost. She wasn't strong enough. Now, she must face the penalty for her actions."

Garen paused as he stood over the young woman, staring into the ice blue hardened glare of the King of Demacia. Garen's chest heaved as he used the back of his gloved hand to wipe blood from his chin. He brought his weapon up above his head and held it there, looking down over his quarry. Shyvana lay at his feet, her tattered red hair splayed out around her like a giant pool of blood. Blood poured from the deep gash on her arm, a bruise forming on her forehead. Her chest heaved with the exertion and fear, her entire body trembling slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his glare. Garen took a half step back, his mouth ajar.

Fire boiled in her violet eyes as they slowly swirled with golden color, her pupils narrowing to black diamonds. Blue scales started to show on her face as her face contorted in anger.

Garen shivered as he tightened his fists around his sword and lifted it up above his head. _Just what are you?_

"DO IT, CAPTAIN!" Jarvan III barked the order and Garen closed his eyes, unwilling to stare into the eyes of someone who had so much fight left in them as they died.

Garen brought his sword down in a cleaving swing, striking the stone just before her and driving his blade in deep. He grunted with the effort, but as Garen closed his eyes and began to radiate with power, the hum of steel could be heard ringing in the air. The blade sunk deeper as he poured all of his might and energy into the manifestation of his true strength. He exhaled and then shouted, driving the blade into the ground with as much force as he could muster, a flash of golden light enveloping the area as blue flames seemed to pour off of his body.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed. He sunk down and shoulder checked one of the guardsmen who now tried to restrain him, sending the man tumbling backwards. He grabbed the lance still held over his chest and hauled the other soldier over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground, his armor clattering as air exploded out of the soldier's mouth. Jarvan launched himself towards where Shyvana lay on the ground, a lance in his hands. "SHYVANA!"

A massive golden sword dropped from the sky.

* * *

_Earlier that morning..._

Jarvan stepped out of the entrance of the Laughing Yordle and yawned, stretching his arms high above him as he stretched his back. He rolled his head and cracked his neck, leaning his lance against his body as he settled his pack on his back and adjusted the straps to ride a bit higher above his hip.

"You didn't get any sleep at all last night, did you?" Forsythe shook his head, rolling his eyes when Jarvan glared at him. Forsythe was having a hard time controlling his laughter, a smile spreading over his face as Jarvan continued to shoot him dirty looks.

"Bite me, you sarcastic little shit." Jarvan growled, picking his lance up and laying it over his shoulder. He yawned again, trying to smother it with his hand, but he could shake the lack of sleep off. "Quinn headed out already?"

"She did, yeah." Forsythe looked slightly downtrodden, but he shrugged it off. He looked down the road towards the south, in the direction he had come from the day before. "She wanted to get a head start on her journey back towards Kalamanda. I tried to wake you two up to say goodbye, but you were both still dead out." Forsythe frowned. "Must have been up late to oversleep by that much." He grinned at Jarvan and watched as his prince scowled, turning away to finish his tinkering with his backpack.

"You might wanna just stow it now, before I have to knock your teeth down your throat." Jarvan growled. "I don't enjoy having people try to dissect my personal life, despite being a Prince."

"Yeah, boss, I understand." Forsythe said, his voice fading a bit as he sighed heavily. Jarvan turned and looked at his friend. _What's wrong with you, Forsythe, you're not acting like yourself._

"Everything alright, Forsythe?" Jarvan set a hand on the man's shoulder. Forsythe looked up at him with pain in his eyes, but shrugged it off, covering it with a smile.

"Yeah, just a bit sad." Forsythe said with a sad grin tugging at his mouth. "All good things have to come to an end, ya know?" Jarvan nodded and chuckled softly.

"If you must know, Shyvana wanted to hear tales of what it's like in Demacia." Jarvan sighed, a fondness that spoke of who was on his mind seeping into his voice. He pulled his helm off and ran a hand through his black hair, drawing his bangs back over his head. He pulled his helm back on and strapped it in place under his chin. "I wanted to know a bit more about dragons as a species. We spent the better part of the night swapping stories."

"Oh..." Forsythe looked slightly downtrodden, as if he had expected something else. "Well that's no fun." He sighed and shrugged again, chuckling as the scowl returned to Jarvan's face. The door opened and Jarvan and Forsythe both turned to watch as Shyvana emerged from within, pulling her cloak over her shoulders and clipping it in place. She settled it in place over her shoulders and then tugged the armor plates she had been given by Jarvan into place, trying to settle them on her body.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait." She slid to a stop, her arms flailing, nearly crashing into Jarvan as her boots skidded on the ice. She wobbled momentarily before Jarvan caught her. He lifted her from the ice and set her onto the cobblestone road, looking over her to ensure she hadn't hurt herself. She blushed and glanced away.

"Take a second and calm yourself." Jarvan said with a fond look on his face. "It's only a few hours walk to Demacia." Shyvana nodded nervously, and Jarvan could read a bit of tension in her body. She took a deep breath and exhaled, steam rolling from her nose as she beamed at Jarvan.

"You look like you slept really well." Forsythe said, watching a color flooded Shyvana's face and she stared at the ground, tugging the front of her tunic down across her body. She definitely looked radiant, and Forsythe couldn't help but grin at Jarvan. The prince continued to scowl at him and Forsythe chuckled, causing Shyvana to glance back and forth between the two men. Jarvan sighed and waved Forsythe off. Shyvana frowned but looked up at Jarvan and nodded. She did seem to glow, her cheeks a bit rosy, the tip of her nose pink, and her skin was brighter than normal, a bit of color in her skin tone. Jarvan blushed when she met his gaze and smiled at him, causing him to glance away nervously.

"I'm ready to go." She laughed as Jarvan tried to shake his nerves off. She slid up next to Jarvan and laced her finger into his, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Good, I'm ready to get back!" Forsythe said, injecting himself into the conversation, a wry smile stretching onto his face. "It's been so long that I've almost forgotten what Demacia looked like."

"Where's home for you, Forsythe?" Shyvana said, glancing over at the towheaded soldier.

"I never really had a home." Forsythe said, lacing his hands behind his head and looking to the blue sky as he took off at an easy pace, letting Jarvan and Shyvana behind him fall into wake along the recently plowed road. "Though if I had to say, home for me is the Demacian Martial Barracks." He shrugged. "Anywhere I'm stationed where I can get three hot meals a day and eight hours is good enough for me. I've been a part of one branch of the military or another for as long as I can remember, and before that, the docks were my home."

"You lived down by the ocean?" Shyvana said with a smile, leaning forward so she could see Forsythe around Jarvan.

"Yep." Forsythe grinned, though it had lost much of its shine, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I grew up a street urchin, bouncing around different warehouses, eating scraps from restaurants and what little I could buy with money I scraped together doing odd jobs to support myself and my-..." His voice trailed off and Forsythe's pace slowed just a tad as he stared at the ground, blushing.

"Your what?" Shyvana asked, her curiosity now piqued.

"It's nothing." Forsythe said, his eyes a bit dimmer than normal. "Just some bad memories from when I used to be a gutter rat."

"Oh... I didn't mean to pry." Shyvana said nervously, blushing.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Forsythe said, injecting happiness into his voice. "That was a long time ago. I did my time and then I got picked out by the prince here and well, the rest is history."

"I'd hope it's not history yet." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not quite ready to be an entry in a history book." Forsythe looked surprised, but he let out a hearty chuckle, the warmth returning to his voice.

"No, I don't expect I'm ready either." Forsythe walked a bit lighter, the spring back in his step. Forsythe slowed for a moment, and then lifted one foot into the air, staring down at a leather strap that now hung loose around his ankle. Jarvan and Shyvana took several steps further before they had to turn to look back at why their remaining traveling companion had slowed to a halt. "Damnit." He looked to Jarvan. "I'mma fix this real quick, give me a minute."

Jarvan nodded. "Take your time." Forsythe dropped to one knee and started tinkering with his boot, trying to get the leather strap to fit back into the buckle.

"What's wrong with Forsythe?" Shyvana said quietly, crossing his arms over her chest.

"I don't know..." Jarvan murmured. "His story... his story usually ends with 'supporting myself,' and that's it."

"But his story didn't end there this time." Shyvana said quietly, looking down at the young man again as he kneeled over his boot.

"Exactly."

"And he's never mentioned this before?" Shyvana gave him a quizzical look.

"Never." Jarvan frowned, looking at his remaining soldier. "I... wonder if there is someone else in his life..."

"You think it's a woman?" Shyvana looked down at the young soldier, his blonde hair bouncing as he jerked the leather strap into place. Jarvan shrugged, watching Forsythe as he pushed himself to his feet.

"We ready to go?" Forsythe smiled at both Jarvan and Shyvana in turn. "What were you talking about just now?"

"Not much." Shyvana said, shrugging. "Just about how sore I am from last night." She turned, giving Jarvan a devious grin, and shooting Forsythe a look that challenged his beliefs. She chuckled at the dumbstruck look on both of their faces, though her tread fell short when she stepped back towards the road. "Jarvan..."

"So that's what you two did..." Forsythe said slyly. "I thought Shyvana was glowing a bit much." He grinned imperiously, staring down his nose at Jarvan. Though they were of similar height and build, Jarvan couldn't help but be nervous at the feeling of vulnerability it gave him to have his life suddenly split so open to one of his men. "Don't worry, prince." Forysthe chuckled and slapped Jarvan on the shoulder. "And of course the princess too."

"I WILL take you down a peg, Forsythe." Jarvan growled.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana murmured, tugging on his sleeve.

"Damnit." Jarvan scratched his head, sighing. "I asked you not to tell anyone, Shyvana." Her hand dropped away from his and she took a step back away from Jarvan, glancing at him and then glancing down to the ground. "Shy?"

"Jarvan, heads up." Forsythe's voice had gone quiet as he took a half step forward, spreading his feet into a defensive stance. "We've got incoming."

Jarvan's eyes were drawn to the road as the sound of horse hooves striking the cobbles started to echo along the snow covered houses and trees that lined the road. Clad in blue, white and golden armor, a column of soldiers approached, marching down the middle of the road. Peasants and commoners moved to the side, parting to let the column move through.

"Who is that?" Shyvana said quietly.

"I suspect they're the welcoming party." Forsythe said, a tight smile upon his lips. "Valor knights... a whole fucking company of them." A smile spread on Shyvana's face as she stood up and looked down over the knights as the approached their position. Each knight was mounted upon a horse and each bore a lance in hand, the bladed head held high, a standard flapping in the brisk morning breeze. Their helmets were crested by crimson plumes, and their golden plated armor gleamed in the morning sun. Their horses were similarly armored, with long blue skirts and golden armor around the horses necks. They moved in unison, the echoing of their hooves already engraved in Jarvan ears.

"You make it sound like a bad thing." Shyvana said, her smile fading from her face when she saw the glum look on Jarvan's face. "It's not a bad thing, is it?"

"I don't think so..." Forsythe said, growling. "Though a company of Valor Knights is rarely met with good circumstances... or resistance."

The company ground to a halt as they approached Jarvan and his two companions. Atop the lead horse, a man with brown hair and blue eyes looked down at the group. He narrowed his eyes as they passed over the two men and then over Shyvana, and even off the horse, he towered over them. He wore a blue scarf around his neck against the day's chill, despite the sunshine that covered the land. A massive sword hung at his waist. Shyvana looked up at him, watching as his glare passed over him again. She shivered.

"Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV?" The man's voice was firm and officious, extremely military.

"Captain Garen Crownguard." Jarvan's voice was stiff as he spoke the name, and a frown creased his brow.

"Please present your seal, sir." Garen's voice had stiffened noticeably, and the tension was audible in the winter air. Jarvan sighed, but nodded. He pulled collar of his tunic down, and pulled out a small golden coin that hung on a golden chain around his neck. He doffed his helm and then pulled the necklace over his head, shaking his black hair back into place. He held the coin and chain out for Garen to accept.

"Please remove the seal from the collar, sir." Garen said, still waiting. Jarvan shot him a dark look but nodded, pulling the coin from the rubber collar it was set in. Jarvan palmed the golden chain and then handed the coin to Garen, who finally accepted it.

"What's that?" Shyvana whispered to Forsythe, both of them standing slightly off to the side. Forsythe glanced down at her and the looked back to the coin and collar.

"It's the seal of his birthright." Forsythe said, nodding slightly. "A special coin that is engraved with the seal of his family, the Lightshield dynasty. It is proof that he is Jarvan IV, and not an imposter."

"Oh." Shyvana nodded slightly and hid her hands beneath her cloak, rubbing them together nervously.

Garen inspected the coin, setting it atop a small golden box. He pressed the coin into the surface of the box, watching as the box began to hum and glow a golden sheen. A crest appeared above the box, depicting winged lines flanking a circular buckler of blue amethyst. They held swords crossed over the shield and they had emeralds for eyes. Along the bottom, the word _Lightshield _marked the crest.

"Happy now?" Jarvan growled. Garen returned the coin to his hand and waited till the prince had returned the coin to its collar and tucked it inside his tunic. Garen proffered his hand, the speed of the movement surprising Shyvana. A smile crossed his face.

"Welcome back, my friend." Jarvan clasped his arm in his and matched his smile, though tight lipped. Garen clasped his shoulder with his free hand. "It's reassuring to see you in good health."

"It's good to be back." Jarvan said, nodding. "I assume my father sent you?"

"He did." Garen said with a soft chuckle. "We should get moving, we're expected back." He waved over his shoulder and heard the clop of hooves on the cobbles. A rider came forth with three horses in tow, offering the reins to Garen. He nodded his thanks and then handed a pair of reins to Jarvan, who accepted and nodded his thanks.

"You can explain things in the mean time." Jarvan said, strapping his pack onto the horse's back, just behind the saddle. Jarvan gestured to Forsythe and Shyvana. "You remember Forsythe, correct?" Forsythe tried to smile, but the gesture faltered.

"Of course." Garen said. Forsythe saluted promptly, and Garen returned it, extending his hand after dropping the salute. Forsythe shook his hand briefly, accepting a set of reins from his and then setting about mounting his pack on the horse. He turned to look at Shyvana. He paused then turned back to Jarvan. "I was under the impression that two of your men had survived. Not one and a peasent woman."

"Watch your tongue." Jarvan snapped, surprising Garen. "This is Shyvana, a brave warrior who saved my life. You shall show her the same respect you show me." Garen glanced from Jarvan to Shyvana, shooting her a dirty look to mask his surprise.

He bowed. "My apologies." He passed the last set of reins to Shyvana and then turned, mounting up quickly. "We'll head to the front of the column and then we'll head back, sire." Jarvan turned to Shyvana as if to offer his apologies, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Garen spoke again. "Please, your highness, we must hurry. Time is of the essence."

Jarvan looked to Shyvana and nodded apologetically as they mounted up. She shrugged and offered him a subdued smile. Shyvana fell in along his right side, and Fosythe the opposite side of the prince as he turned his horse and snapped the reins, pushing the horse into a canter to catch up with Garen.

"So Garen, care to explain exactly why you rolled out the red carpet for my return?" Jarvan slowed his horse as he came alongside the Demacian Knight.

"Your father has had rangers watching you since you returned to the north side of the Great Barrier." Garen said watching the road as they moved towards the head of the column. "They lost you for a short period of time when you passed through the Evergeen Valley, but they picked you back up when you left Noxus. The captain wished for me to express his condolences for being unable to help you, he was under direct orders to observe and report directly to your father." Garen shrugged. "When you rented a room at the Laughing Yordle, the rangers who were tracking you reported back. I had returned several days earlier from Kalamanda myself and I offered to escort you back into the city."

"I see." Jarvan said, frowning. "What's happened in Kalamanda? We haven't heard much in the way of news in the past month or two."

"Quite a bit actually." Garen said, frowning, looking down towards the neck of his horse. He slowed the animal as he approached the middle of the formation, a soldier riding from the front towards him. "Tunis, what's wrong?"

"Sir, we have several trade wagons approaching." The man was dark of hair and skin, and though he had a soft voice, it didn't lack for intensity. "Permission to take the column off the road?"

"Do it, Tunis." Garen said nodding. "As soon as they pass, lead us back to the city, I'll fall in with the prince and his two companion between platoons two and three."

"Sir." The officer barked and spun his horse about, taking off at a gallop.

"Pardon the delays." Garen growled, shaking his head. "This is part of the issue right now. There was a huge mineral deposit discovered earlier this year not far outside Kalamanda proper, and many miners and prospectors have been flocking to the city. With the rapid influx of people, the city requested aid in the way of food and supplies. We had a bountiful harvest this past year and we offered to send some of our surplus as a token of goodwill to the city with hopes of garnering favor with the mayor and the council."

"It wasn't that long ago that we had ventured into Kalamanda ourselves." Forsythe said. "I don't remember there being much in the way of a martial presence there. Not anything out of the ordinary at least."

"We only recently expanded our presence out of the fields on the west side of town." Garen said frowning. The Noxians moved forces into the city not long after you left, after a platoon of legionaries were offed." Jarvan glanced at Shyvana and she gave him a nervous but knowing smile. "We reinforced our presence, and I was given command of the garrison there, and I've been dealing with Katarina Du Couteau to maintain an uneasy peace between the mounting forces there. There's been some trouble, as the town isn't really equipped or large enough to deal with the troops now stationed there, but there hasn't been any real conflict within the last few weeks." The column had moved off the road, and several large wagons, each dragged by a team of four horses trundled past. Guards of the supply column watched the company of soldiers warily, but they offered no words.

"I see." Jarvan said, frowning. "What brings you back to Demacia then, Garen? I heard you had joined the Institute of War, the League of Legends." .

"Indeed." Garen nodded. "I joined up a while ago as the first emissary of Demacia. With Noxus holding a strong position within the League, the king decided we needed to begin expanding our circle of influence into the League as well. I was the first to join, though it wasn't long afterward when Xin Zhao joined me at the Institute. Lady Sona Buvelle and my younger sister, Luxanna joined as well, not but a few months ago." The column grew anxious, murmurs passing through the men, as the last of the wagons dragged past. The column moved back onto the road, both man and horse moving into formation on the road. Garen whistled and spun his hand high above his head. The column shuddered and lurched forward as they began moving towards the city.

"How's Lux doing, I haven't seen her since she was a child." Jarvan said, smiling. The young blonde had followed the two boys around whenever she had been able, though she had been sent to the Demacian Academy not long before Jarvan had run into Swain and lost his company.

"She's fine." Garen said, shrugging. "She's outwardly cheerful, but she hasn't been happy in a long while." Garen frowned, his massive shoulders swaying as he starred off towards the ocean, which was now a silver ribbon upon the horizon. "She won't talk to me about it. Recently she's been shut up in her room of the academy library."

"Sounds like someone I know." Forsythe said, chuckling. Shyvana glanced over at him and Forsythe grinned and pointed at Jarvan.

Shyvana smiled as she watched Garen and Jarvan continue to converse.

_So this is what Demacia is like..._

* * *

"The great Eastern Gate of Demacia." Jarvan gestured to the massive wall of clean, golden grey stone, rising up from ground towards the sky like the mountains of the great barrier. The stone wall was accented with stone blocks that were a pale gray marbled with blue, and a pair of massive lions stood sentinel along either side of the gate. Emeralds seemed to glow in their eyes, and golden claws and manes served to only add to the statues' beauty. Shyvana had to crane her neck as soldier patrolled the top of the wall, archers carrying bows and mages with hoods hiding their face, all of them moving along the wall, vigilant for any threat.

Shyvana took pause as she approached the gates of the great city state of Demacia. The towering spires rose toward the sky with gentle curves, walkways bridging the gaps and interconnecting the city. Arches and almost feminine beauty dominated the landscape, the blue and gold colors accenting the gold and green architecture. Fluffy white snow covered much of the city, but it only added to the charm and beauty. Demacia stretched out in every direction for what looked like miles, rising up to a pinnacle around the great halls of the Demacian Royal Palace. It was truly a sight to behold, the polished golden stone accented with beautiful golden accents and decorations. Green spires curled towards the sky in every direction, the skyline rippling like the peaks of the sea.

_This is a whole new beast... _Shyvana shook her head; she didn't want to think of this as something she needed to defeat, but something to embrace. _This is my home now._ She looked back to Jarvan. _As long as he is here, it shall be my new home._

"It seems a bit smaller than I remember." Forsythe said with a wry grin. He craned his neck back to watch as they passed under a large arch.

"It's not smaller, you're just taller." Jarvan laughed. "Two years have passed and you've gained six inches, easy, Forsythe." The towheaded knight blushed, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah..." He muttered and Shyvana couldn't help but smile.

"So this is Demacia..." Shyvana practically whispered, staring up and over her shoulder at the massive arch that formed the gateway into the city. "It's gorgeous..."

"You actually entered Demacia yesterday." Garen said, looking over his shoulder at the dragoness. "Demacia is a large kingdom, though Demacia Proper, the actual capital, isn't very large."

"It's larger than any city I've ever been to..." Shyvana said, still in awe. They moved through another gateway, and immediately Shyvana's jaw fell open. She stared up as the world around her seemed to transform. Buildings of stone and marble rose up on either side of the street, and people stopped to watch the procession. Men, women and children crowded into the street to watch at the knights marched past, their standards held high and their horses trotting happily and in time. "There's so many people..." Shyvana blushed as Jarvan sat higher in his saddle and smiled. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a confident grin.

"We only just entered the city... this is nothing." He chuckled as Shyvana blushed again, watching in awe as more people poured into the streets to watch the column of knights move past. Shyvana shrank back at all of the cheering that echoed around them. Jarvan couldn't keep the grin off of his face as the cheers rose up as he silently lifted his lance above his head and pumped it up and down. Shyvana blushed as she attracted stares, glares and curious glances as she rode victoriously though the streets just behind Jarvan and to the right.

"Cheer up, girly!"

Shyvana glanced over her shoulder. She glanced about, looking for the source of the voice, but there wasn't anything to be seen. Shyvana felt a pang of grief in her heart. She could see it now. Isaacs wore a cocky little grin. He raised an arm and waved to a knot of slightly older women, several of them glancing aside and blushing as he gave them a proud and imperious glance, sitting up taller in his saddle, the missing leg hidden behind the horse.

"He'd probably say something like 'Cheer up, this is a joyous occasion!'" Shyvana glowered down at the back of her horses neck, gripping the reins with white knuckled fists.

"You alright, Shy?" Jarvan had slowed, and though he continued to smile and wave to the many citizens who watched along the sidewalks, Shyvana could see the worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, I think so." She gave him a brave smile and looked back to the crowds, trying to smile at the many young children who looked up at her with admiration."I just... I've never dealt with this sort of attention."

"What about when you were fighting in the Noxian Coliseum?" Forsythe said with a sly grin. "If Jarvan's stories are true at all... you were enjoying the crowd plenty while you tried to kill him. Just smile and wave!"

"What?" Garen looked aghast. "She tried to do what to you in Noxus?" His hand stole away to his blade upon his hip, but Jarvan chuckled, waving him off.

"No, not like that." He said, still struggling not to laugh. "It was just a bit of confusion is all." Jarvan shot Forsythe an accusing glare, but the younger solder shrugged it off and turned his attention back to the many young women who had flocked out to see the knights. "You were getting into it though." Jarvan glanced at Shyvana giving her a sly grin.

Shyvana blushed furiously, the memory playing in her mind. "Yes but no one could see my face."

"It's so cute though." Jarvan interjected, pointing to her with a grin. "Why hide it?" Shyvana smiled but blushed even harder, her face nearly the same color as her bright red hair.

"I guess." Shyvana said, her finger slowly circling along the top of the saddle. She looked towards the crowd. She smiled meekly at the masses as they seemed to meld together; a huge number of people had come out to see the return of their missing prince. Shyvana cast a fleeting glance Jarvan. _It's been over two years since he had left the city and disappeared into the night with twelve men in tow. Now, he has returned with his armor adorned with the claws and fangs of the fiercest of creatures, only a single survivor accompanying him of the original twelve. What will people think when they realize what... who he's become? _Shyvana did her best to smile as she waved to some young men and women in the crowd. The women looked scorning but the men blushed red, smiles spreading upon their face.

"See, the boys swoon and the ladies scowl with jealousy." Forsythe said with a chuckle. "Just wait till word gets out that you're not just a member of his guard..." He grinned, raising his eyebrow above the empty socket, his good eye twinkling mischievously. Shyvana blushed furiously, ducking her head, thinking to the night she had shared with Jarvan. "You'll singlehandedly become the enemy of every woman in Demacia."

"Enough of your idle gossip, Forsythe, you sound like Isaacs." Jarvan growled, a tinge of bitterness in his voice that belayed the smile he wore on his face. Shyvana tried to put a smile back on her face at the spotlight that Jarvan had been isolated in. His face was red with color as well, and she felt her heart warm just a bit knowing he was just as nervous as she was about it. She didn't particularly enjoy his discomfort, but she couldn't help but smile at the ribbing he was receiving.

"Why would they hate me?" Shyvana whispered to Jarvan, frowning as the prince glanced away as if he was avoiding her question. Forsythe trotted forward between them, a lopsided grin on his face. He leaned forward in his saddle, grinning, his voice low.

"You are being courted by the single most important bachelor in Valoran right now." He pointed discreetly at Jarvan. "Power, charisma, money and not to mention good looks," Forsythe nudged Shyvana in the side with a grin as he whispered. "I'd be careful if someone didn't try to steal him away from you." Shyvana shot him a dirty look, but her anger was immediately extinguished as they rounded a corner and turned onto the main thoroughfare.

Shyvana's jaw fell open as they straightened out, the thunderous roar of the crowds echoing off the towering structures that lined both sides of the road. Though the trees were bare, the snow that still rested on their branches gave them a beautiful appearance. A gust of wind disturbed the snow and sent it powdering to the ground, some of it getting swept up in the light breeze that teased the flags along the street. The blue and gold banners fluttered in the breeze along the buildings that towered above the street along every building. Men, women and children lined windows, balconies and the sides of the street as Jarvan and his small band proudly trotted forward amid the company of knights.

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

As they approached the end of the gently curving boulevard, the tallest structure in the entire city came into view as they turned the last corner. Situated on the highest point of the cape, the palace looked like it was made of shimmering gold. Spires reached up higher than the mountains and the gently green curves of the roof were ornate and pretty. Standards hung along the massive flying buttresses, and towers sat atop the great pillars that radiated out from the center structure.

"It's massive." Shyvana whispered. "I've never seen something so large..."

"We're still about a kilometer out." Jarvan said with a smile. Shyvana's eyes grew wide.

"You mean..." She stammered already craning her neck to look up at the spires that surrounded her, and along the long boulevard, spires continued to rise up. "Oh, wow." She immediately reconsidered just how large the highest tower was. They passed through another set of walls, though these were much smaller than the towering monstrosities that they had passed into the city.

The roar of the crowd started to fade.

"Demacia prides herself on having some of the tallest structures in all of Valoran, and the Palace stands out as a shining beacon of the Demacian Ideal." Garen said officially. Shyvana continued to watch the highest point of the Palace, a blue and gold flag atop the highest spire, as it seemed to get higher and higher in the sky. Shyvana was surprised, around her, a field of snow, punctuated by trees and bushes stretched out, the Demacian Palace marking the center of the open area. The column turned left and began to wrap around as the palace began to eclipse the sky. The front-most of the flying buttress towers was surrounded by light blue and gold flowers, and a fountain that sat at the base.

A massive door stood open and waiting, guards lining the steps that led up to the main door into the palace.

"Wow..." She whispered, her voice getting caught in her throat. Jarvan grabbed her hand and gaze it a squeeze. She looked over at him, her face slightly flushed, her voice gone as she looked the prince with large eyes.

"Welcome home." He said with a smile. Shyvana nodded, a grin on her face.


	3. Chapter 2: King Jarvan III

Garen lead them into the massive greeting hall of the Demacian palace. Flanked along each side by all of his forefathers, Jarvan IV recognized two men immortalized in gold as he stopped along the plush blue carpet that covered the smooth, dressed-stone floor. He looked up at his Grandfather, Jarvan II and then to his immediate left, Jarvan I, the first of the Lightshield Dynasty.

_A few words of wisdom would be useful right about now._

"Who is that?" Shyvana asked as she stepped up to his side and yanked him back to reality, looking up at the massive golden statue.

"Jarvan Lightshield II, my grandfather." Jarvan said quietly, feeling miniscule next to his grandfather's statue. It rose up many times his height, and while it was domineering in sheer stature, that wasn't the only thing that made him feel small. His grandfather's legacy towered over him everywhere he looked, the reformed Demacian Military much of his grandfather's doing. It was something he had strived to eclipse up until not long ago. Jarvan felt his brow crease, but he turned away, shaking his head and clearing his mind with a deep breath.

"He was a great man." Garen said, his voice still stiff. He gestured to the large doors at the far end of the greeting hall where several guards stood posted. "Please, sire, your father and mother are waiting."

"Of course." Jarvan said gruffly, shaking his head. "I was merely being sentimental." He cast one last glance at the statue of his grandfather and then followed in Garen's wake. Shyvana started to follow after him but stopped and stared up at the statue, a frown marring her face.

"You okay?" Forsythe stood behind Shyvana, watching Jarvan retreat after Garen. Shyvana watched them go and looked to Forsythe, mix of emotions on her face.

"Yeah," Shyvana shook her head. "I've just got a bad feeling about this, like I'm walking into a trap."

"You know Jarvan would never purposefully hurt you, right?" Forsythe put a hand on her shoulder. "Hell, he'd probably try his damnedest to make sure you didn't get hurt at all if he could help it." Forsythe ran a hand over his head as he started following in the wake of the Jarvan and Garen.

"I know." Shyvana said, her brow furrowing as she followed after him. "I just... I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to see him after this. I'm scared about meeting the king and queen too; I don't think they're going to approve of me."

"Well, honestly Miss Shyvana, I can't think of a reason they wouldn't like you." Forsythe tried to say encouragingly. "Well, aside from the fact that they know nothing about you... and that you're not Demacian... And you've got a bit of a temper..." Shyvana glanced over at Forsythe and glared at him, hoping the towheaded soldier would catch on. "And you nearly beheaded Jarvan... and you totally just fuc-OW!" He rubbed his arm where Shyvana had punched the armored plates that covered his shoulder.

Shyvana rolled her eyes and growled, but the sound died in her throat. _And the whole turning into a giant fire-breathing dragon thing._ She shook her head as Forsythe continued to rub his shoulder beneath a black, smoking, fist-shaped dent in his shoulder pauldron. She sighed, letting her shoulders sink. "Well, my mother was Demacian." She paused. "I think..."

"That's the spirit." Forsythe said, chuckling, obviously doing his best to try and cheer the dragoness up.

"Hey Forsythe?" Shyvana said, looking over at the blonde soldier as she fell into pace with him.

"What's up?" He smiled cheekily.

"You suck at cheering people up."

"Sorry." Forsythe sighed as he was overcome with a fit of chuckles. Shyvana waited til he finally calmed down before she fitted him with a fiery glare, which only served to make the warrior giggle. She waved him off, moving in the direction her prince had disappeared in, leaving Forsythe to try and recover from his laughter. Forsythe jogged to catch up, waving a hand in front of his face as he gasped for air. "I just tried to do what Isaacs did for me. I guess I don't have the asinine sense of humor to make it work."

"It's the thought that counts." Shyvana said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "We should catch up."

"Right, uh, this way." Forsythe said, waving her towards the large doors at the end of the hall. Shyvana nodded and followed quietly after him, still looking around the palace in awe. They passed through a number of intersections, Guards posted everywhere, but none of them seemed to pay attention to Shyvana or Forsythe. Several times, Shyvana could have sworn she caught several following them with their eyes, but as soon as they noticed her glare they became virtual statues, their eyes glued to the wall. Torches and great skylights lit the long hallways as Forsythe jogged to catch up with Garen and Jarvan. Blue and red furnished much of the palace, with great tapestries trimmed in gold showing every sort of thing that Shyvana could only guess about. She slowed her pace as they fell in behind Jarvan, listening in to the conversation the two Demacaian soldiers seemed to be lost amid.

"What do you mean?" Jarvan growled. Anger showed on his face, and while Garen looked apologetic, the frown darkened the look to that of concentration.

"I don't know, I haven't heard but so much about it." Garen said shrugging. "But apparently, Noxus offered to give Ionia a rematch after only seven years of the occupation period. Nobody knows why though."

"That doesn't make any sense." Jarvan growled, clenching a fist and staring down at the ground. "Why would Darkwill offer the rematch eight years early?"

"Now you understand why Demacia is mobilizing." Garen said, turning to look out a tall window as he passed. "We don't know what sort of tricks Noxus has in store and we want to be ready for anything. This may be the Institute of War's domain, but we have a right to support our allies and to secure our borders. That's why the military is moving to fortify all of our outlying holds along our border with Noxus."

"And what has my father said about this?" Jarvan asked.

"He's spoken with Ionian diplomats on the issue and offered his support, both in domestic affairs and military power." Garen sighed, frowning. "He seems to be in favor of the rematch despite the obvious ulterior motives that have yet to be revealed. If Ionia is liberated, that opens up a number of trade treaty options for Demacia and we're rapidly trying to cement our ties with both Ionia and Piltover."

"I don't like it." Jarvan said, his back tensing up as they were stopped by palace guards outside a large set of wooden doors. They were inlaid with a golden etching of a lion's head, and Guards moved up behind them, holding weapons at the ready.

"I don't either, but politicians have deemed it the best course of action. Even the Council is in favor of it." Shyvana could hear the loathing in his voice as Garen turned to look to the officer who had approached. While he didn't wear the same helm as the other Palace Guardsmen, he had the same armor and a crimson sash that ran from his right shoulder to his left hip, a golden medallion holding it in place on the blue cloak that he wore.

"Colonel Walkurze." Garen said, nodding to the man. The colonel met his gaze and nodded to him curtly as he glanced over the three who had followed in his wake.

"Guests of the court, Captain Crownguard?" He said, casting a sneering glare over Shyvana before turning to stare back at Jarvan. The Prince's eyes darkened in anger, holding his lance at his side, his fist flexing around the barrel of the lance. The colonel looked over him again and suddenly his eyes shot fully open as he bowed. "Apologies, Prince Lightshield!" He snapped. "I didn't recognize you. Welcome home, sire!"

"Thank you." Jarvan said tersely, giving the colonel a polite but tight lipped smile.

"You'll have to turn over your weapons, sir." The colonel said hesitantly. Jarvan looked to Garen who shrugged but nodded. "Apologies, sir. Standard procedure for those who are-... who are not common members of the king's court." Jarvan glowered, but nodded, handing his lance to the Guardsman who stepped up and held out a hand for the weapon. Jarvan pulled the knife off the back of his belt and then the blade in his right boot, turning them both over to the guard. Jarvan stepped back as the men eyed the the fangs and talons that dotted his armor along his forearm guards and his shoulder pauldrons. The colonel waved them off.

"Happy now?" Jarvan growled. The colonel looked to Forsythe and then Shyvana, his eyes hovering a bit too long on her for his comfort.

"Your companions will need to turn over any weapons they have, as well." Shyvana glanced at Jarvan and he nodded. Shyvana pulled the massive dragon's head gauntlets out from under her cloak and proffered them to the guardsman who stepped up to meet her. He accepted them but continued to wait as if he expected more weapons to be produced. Shyvana took a step back.

"Is that it?" The colonel looked surprised. "An undersized shield and buckler?"

"I don't fight like most people." Shyvana said quietly.

"I see." The colonel's gaze tightened, but he turned to Forsythe who was still pulling weapons from his person. The colonel's mouth fell open slightly as Forsythe deposited a folding ax, a number of large knives, a shield, and so many other weapons another soldier had to step forward to hold them all. He dropped two throwing hatchets, a set of throwing knives, four bolos, a set of spiked brass knuckles, two satchel charges, a stick of dynamite, a katana, a chain sickle, and a large rock into the waiting arms of the soldiers.

"Good lord, Forsythe." Jarvan said, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh. "I understand you like collecting weapons, but why the rock?"

"I like be prepared, so sue me." Forsythe said, watching as the colonel's eyes grew wide when Forsythe lifted the massive rock in a single hand, tossing it up and catching it several times. "You never know when you'll need something to bash someone's head in. Rocks are useful. They can also tell you the weather." Forsythe raised his hand in a gesture to wait as he reaching onto the back of his belt, fiddling with something below his tunic. He smiled as he finally dropped a wicked looking curved combat knife with a spike on the pommel into the second Guardsman's arms and then took a step back. "That's it."

"Where were you keeping it all?" Shyvana said, blinking several times, clearly impressed. "And how can rocks tell the weather?"

"Here and there." Forsythe said with a grin. "It's pretty easy actually. All you have to do is take the rock out and set it on the ground and wait a few minutes. If the rock is wet, it's raining. If the rock is hot, it's sunny, if the rock is white, it's-..."

"Enough. Fine, fine." The colonel shook his head as Jarvan and Shyvana chuckled at the colonel's expense. "Follow me." He nodded to the Guardsmen who stood by the door, each soldier pushing the door in and allowing them to pass through. Garen led first, just behind Colonel Walkurze, and then Jarvan with Shyvana staying close to him, and Forsythe bringing up the rear. Two guardsmen followed them from behind, weapons at the ready in case anyone tried anything funny. Shyvana's eyes grew wide as they moved into the throne room. Windows stretched up towards the sky, sunshine casting long pillars of light along the floor, shadows hiding an untold number of soldiers along either side of the massive hall. The ceiling was dark, hidden by shadows high above, massive gold and blue banners descending from high above. Beautiful tapestries hung on either side of the hall, depicting knights in battle and arcane magic exploding like the heavens were angry with the world. Garen stopped short and stepped off to the side, watching as Jarvan nodded and then moved past. He eyed Shyvana uncomfortably, but her eyes were elsewhere, taking in the beauty of the throne room.

"King Lighshield III and Lady Catherine, I present Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV and company." Colonel Walkurze gestured with a wide sweeping motion to the three who had followed him as they approached the throne. They stopped twenty feet short of the steps that led up to where a man and a woman sat atop ornate thrones. Though it was on a raised platform, steps led up to the large golden throne. Atop the throne sat a man with a thick black beard, though silver was beginning to creep in along the edges. He wore dark gray armor trimmed with gold and a sweeping red cloak that billowed around him as he stood, the loose blue tunic he wore over his chest armor depicting the crest of Demacia, similar to the one Jarvan wore. He wore light colored gloves with golden gauntlets, and a brown cloak was wrapped around his neck, despite the large fires that burned on either side of the throne room. A magnificent golden crown, tipped with rubies sat perched on his head. He stepped down towards the group, glaring menacingly at the colonel when he opened his mouth to protest. His strides were long but unhurried, with a grace that befit his rank and told of his nobility, rather than the years that wore heavily on him.

He had piercing ice-blue eyes that forfeited no years to his son, and though the younger Lightshield had several inches in height and a decent bit of bulk, there was a distinctive aura that the king gave off that set them apart. Confidence and power poured off of him like the heat Shyvana felt burning her cheeks. He glanced at Shyvana with those piercing, ice-blue eyes, and though she felt a mix of nervousness and fear welling in her mind, she straightened up a bit and met his gaze with an even expression. He was youthful in the face, only the slightest sign of wrinkles forming around his eyes betraying his real age. Shyvana shivered as his eyes seemed to pierce into her soul. Garen, Colonel Walkurze and Forsythe all bowed, and Shyvana soon followed suit. She stole a glance away and watched as the others returned to their standing position, both Garen and Forsythe falling in at parade rest while Jarvan stood defiant, staring down at his father.

Shyvana could feel the tension in the air, like the night before a fierce battle when men knew they might not return. Jarvan's pale, gray-blue eyes locked with his father's intense, ice blue glare and they simply stared at each other for a long time, utter silence filling the hall.

Jarvan glanced at Shyvana and she blushed, staring at the ground when the king's gaze followed that of his son. "Father..."

"Two years." Jarvan III's voice was deeper and slightly more gravelly than his son, though it carried the same intensity that his eyes shown. "Two long years you abandoned your kingdom of your own volition. The blood of one-hundred and twenty eight of Demacia's finest were on your hands and now you choose to return after all of that... but not before nearly starting a war in Noxus."

His voice faded out as Shyvana watched the muscles bunch up at the corners of her Jarvan's mouth. _A father should be pleased to see his son..._ She felt her hands convulse into fists. _This isn't how a reunion of family should be... I would have given anything to see my father again._ She gritted her teeth, and realized that she had started to let heat pour off of her body. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to come back after pulling a stunt like that." The king narrowed his ice-blue eyes. Shyvana watched as something dangerous clouded them, as if they were darkening like a thunderstorm about the erupt from the heavens. A smile began to spread on his face, but he checked it at the last moment, though Shyvana watched it spread into his eyes.

At that, the woman stood and seemed to float down the stairs, though she wore a broad smile that showed just how excited she was to see her son. "Welcome home my son." She said, getting wrapped up in a bear hug from her son, who towered over her. "Jarvan, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you as well, mother." Jarvan said, hugging her tightly, almost lifting her off her feet. The woman stood back and looked him up and down. "You haven't changed a bit." She cocked her head to the side.

"You haven't either." She said smiling at him. "Maybe a bit taller, but you're as handsome as I remember." She smiled broadly and her eyes sparkled as she looked over her son. The king didn't share her enthusiasm though, and he stepped up to his throne and sat down, exhaling heavily.

"Before we conduct any further business, I demand two things." The king fitted his son with a glare.

"And what is that, Father?" Jarvan IV asked, frowning.

"Explain to me just how it is that you departed with twelve men and returned with two?" His father said, glowering. "Though if I remember correctly, you departed with twelve men, so you can explain just who _she_ is next." The king gave Shyvana a glare as well, though there was a mix of emotions in his eyes when he looked upon her.

"They died in the line of duty." Jarvan said, his voice wavering just above dogged frustration. He clenched his fists. "My brothers stood with me with their heads held high as they faced down the worst that Valoran had to offer." He glared at the ground, frowning. He continued on with hesitation. "Unfortunately, there came a time when Valoran fought back more than me or any of my men had expected. It came in the form of a Dragon named Kampf." The king's eyes narrowed and Jarvan saw this. "You know this name?" The king looked hesitant, glancing at Shyvana before he frowned, leaning heavily on one arm of his throne.

"What little we have in the way of records that date back beyond the Rune Wars tells of a number of Celestial Dragons." Jarvan III frowned, looking down at his son with something new glimmering in his eyes. "There was one who led dragon kind against the ancient kingdom of Shurima and laid siege to the city for seventy days and seventy nights. Legends says that the dragon was named Kampf."

"I've never heard of such a tale." Jarvan said, frowning.

"I have." Shyvana said quietly.

"And who, pray tell, is this?" The king looked down over her with a frown, his eyes taking on a stormy cast.

Jarvan turned to his female companion and frowned. "Shy-..."

"Silence." The king growled, looking down at his son once more before he turned back to Shyvana. "She can speak for herself." Jarvan glared at his father, but kept his mouth shut, glancing nervously at Shyvana.

"My name is Shyvana, your grace." She bowed at the waist, watching his eyes as they continued to shift back and forth between ice and a storm cloud.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said hesitantly, watching her uneasily. She met his gaze evenly and smiled, and Jarvan exhaled, nodding. _I trust you._

"I was raised by dragons, rather, one dragon." She said firmly, watching as the entirety of the court seemed to convulse. Soldiers and staff of the court seemed to falter in disbelief, many of them whispering, murmurs passing up and down the ranks of soldiers who had stood quietly by up until then. Garen shifted from foot to foot, masking his disbelief with a hand as he reconsidered the young woman. Lady Catherine's eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ruby-haired young woman with violent, violet eyes. King Jarvan III's eyes narrowed as they darkened, his mouth turning into a frown behind his black beard. "He went by the name of Faust, and your records probably tell of him as well." Jarvan III betrayed no surprise, but he nodded. "Fa-...Faust was a Celestial Dragon as well, and he was born thousands of years ago. He was a scholar, and unlike many dragons today who have reverted to savage beasts who fear and despise humanity, Faust chose to simply observe and watch, content with his exile. He told me what history he knew of the world and specifically the dragon, Kampf, who came to hunt and torment Faust my entire life. He is the same Kampf you speak of."

"I see." Jarvan III mused, his eyes looking into the heart of the woman who stood before him, reconsidering her. Shyvana looked unnerved by his ice blue eyes, but they were no longer on the verge of turning dark and stormy with his wrath. "I suppose that means your fate was tied in with that of my son."

"It is." Shyvana said firmly. She watched the king's eyebrow rise up underneath his crown. "Kampf slew Faust and left me for dead, content to watch me die slowly. Jarvan rescued me and fed me, helping me to complete my desire for revenge against that monster, Kampf."

"It is the truth, father." Jarvan IV said, stepping forward. "Without her, I would have undoubtedly shared the same fate as many of my men. She is a powerful warrior."

"And you wish for her a position within the Demacian military." Jarvan III mused, watching Jarvan's protests stall in his mind. A frown played over his son's face. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No." Jarvan said begrudgingly. The king pulled himself to his feet and stepped down towards where Jarvan and Shyvana stood apprehensively.

"What reason do I have to give her a position in my guard?" The king said, looking from his son to the woman he now circled at distance like a predator. He looked her up and down, a frown still on his face. "She hardly looks the part of a warrior, despite the fanciful tale she tells." A cold smile played over his lips. "I can't believe such tales at this. A human raised by Dragons? That's utter rubbish."

"But..." Shyvana stammered turning to look at the king. She had to clench her fists to control her temper. She had expected a man similar to her Jarvan: proud, forthright and a man of action. His father was nothing of the sort. Jarvan III was cold, calculating and his words stung like his icy gaze. Shyvana felt her frustration beginning to mount.

"What proof do you have that you slew this _mythical_ dragon though?" The king said, spreading his arms in a mock shrug. "Surely you have some sort of proof of who this dragon was, that he was the mythical beast, Kampf, that _legend_ speaks of." He met his son's disbelieving glare and then turned back to meet Shyvana's molten glare. "I'm sorry but I need hard evidence before I'll believe in fairy tales. You, young lady look more the part of a damsel in distress, not a warrior of Demacia." Shyvana clenched her fists and stared at the ground, her cheeks flushed.

_He's making me look like a fool._ Shyvana gritted her teeth as she searched for a comeback, something she could say or do to convince the king that she was telling the truth. _I am strong! Far stronger than any of these men..._ She simmered angrily as she looked over the guards. A gap had developed between her and them already. Where many looked at her with interest and unease before, the barrier had broken down to that of pity, as if she were simply another trophy that the Prince had brought home. The king looked back at her with a mix of pity and mirth. Shyvana resisted the urge to snarl, again, turning to stare at the ground, her red lock cascading around her face. _This is so stupid! If only I could smack that smug look from his face!_

"I can vouch for them, sir." Forsythe said as he stepped forward, breaking the tension that had begun to mount. Shyvana blinked a few times, surprised by Forsythe speaking out of turn. The king stopped his pacing long enough to hide his surprise and to look over the towheaded soldier who had stood silently by til now. The king let a smile flit across his lips.

"Ah yes, the sole survivor of my son's guard battalion." The king spoke softly, glaring at Shyvana once again before he stepped up to the young soldier, turning his silent wrath on the Corporal.

"Corporal Ellington Forsythe, 8th King's Guard Battalion, Exemplar Company." Forsythe saluted proudly, snapping to attention.

"Yes, I saw your dossier." The king mused. "You were a street urchin who served time in a penal battalion before you were accepted into my son's company, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Forsythe said, his lips forming a tight line, showing his discomfort at having his service record recalled from memory.

"And I assume that rather gruesome scar is from your fighting with Kampf as well?" The king pointed to the two tail ends of Forsythe scar, the majority of the damage now hidden by the black eyepatch he had purchased during their time at the Laughing Yordle. Forsythe's face hardened for a second but he took the patch off, doffing it in a pouch of his belt. The scar ran from high in Forsythe hairline, down, across his eyes and ended curving back away from the corner of his mouth. Where his left eye had been, a dark depression had formed.

"Sir." Forsythe barked, unphased. "Yes, sir. The monster grazed me when he assaulted our squad and slew all but one of the other men. If it hadn't been for Prince Jarvan and Miss Shyvana's valiant efforts in driving the dragon off, I would be dead."

"And this is the truth?" The king frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at the shoulder who stood rigidly at attention.

"Of course sir." Forsythe said, a frown appearing on his face. "I have no reason to lie..."

"You served time in a penal battalion." Jarvan III said dismissively as he stepped away, back towards Shyvana. "I can't help but think you would say anything to help your own position." Shyvana felt her temper begin to flare, the young dragoness struggling to keep flames from bursting to life. She felt blood trickle down her fists as draconian claws dug into her palms.

"Forsythe has served as loyally as any true son or daughter of Demacia." Jarvan snarled. "He deserves your respect at the very least!" Jarvan stepped towards his father as guardsmen rushed forth. The king raised a hand and the guardsmen froze in place.

"Know your place." The king snapped, glaring at his son angrily. His blue eyes went from dark, menacing thunderstorm blue to cool, hardened ice. He sighed, frowning, looking to both Forsythe and Shyvana and then back to his son. "I knew this was going to be an issue."

"If you did then why would you start trouble?" Jarvan growled in disgust. "I owe Shyvana my life and I promised her a position with the guard and the very least Forsythe deserves is a damned commission." Jarvan III frowned as he met his son's gaze, electricity sparkling in the air.

"She shall have to prove herself then." The king said, finally turning away. "If she shows herself worthy than I shall see to it she receives a position befitting her strength. However, I doubt that it will be anything new. I've seen the likes of her type many times before."

_I shall show you power like you've never seen._ Shyvana took a deep breath, and felt the air around her began to heat. _Then we'll see if you wish to call it a fanciful tale._

"How do you plan to-..." Jarvan began to say, but he felt heat on the side of his face that drew his gaze to where Shyvana stood. Jarvan's face began to pale as he looked at Shyvana. Heat poured off of her body in visible sheets as she clenched her fists and bore her teeth. Her hair stood vertical as it was lifted by the wind, power swirling around her as sparks danced along the ground in a circle around her feet. "Wait, Shy-... Stop!"

"You have faced nothing like me!" Shyvana snarled as she glared at the king with golden fury dancing in her eyes. She raised a fist back as flame cloaked her body, swirling around her as she raced towards the king, her body low to the ground. Flames exploded around the dragoness as she launched herself at the king, knocking the two guards who had rushed forth aside like they were nothing. A raging inferno swirled around Shyvana and she charged, her fist cloaked in flame.

Golden light erupted as a cloud of smoke exploded, filling the room.

For a brief moment Shyvana hung in the air, propelled by her flames as she smashed against something solid and golden, energy bounced off of the wavering golden surface. Shyvana bounced and hit the ground, snarling as she picked herself up off the ground, stunned. She tried to shake it off, pushing herself up and starting to summon her flames. She froze as the sound of steel crossed just beneath her chin. She dared not move an inch, looking down at the long bladed lances that two guardsmen held just inches from her neck. She grinned as she watched the smoke clear, a familiar golden bubble glowing brilliantly.

The elder Jarvan wore a similar smile upon his face from within the golden bubble. The bubble evaporated with a _snap. _Men rushed towards Shyvana, holding her at lance point as fire still simmered around her, though the inferno was gone.

"Execute this bitch!" Colonel Walkurze shrieked, waving his arm at the men who now detained Shyvana.

"No!" Jarvan snarled, starting to rush towards her, but men rushed to greet him as well, their weapons brandished.

Forsythe slid up next to colonel, producing a weapon from the sleeve of his tunic. He pressed the sharpened edge of a rock gently to the colonel's neck and grabbed his arm. "I lied. I had a second rock." Forsythe said with a wicked smile. He twisted the colonel's arm about as the man tried to reach for his sword. "Don't you fucking dare." Forsythe snarled. He grabbed the sword upon the man's hip and slid it out of its sheath. "Jarvan!"

Forsythe tossed the blade for the prince to catch. Jarvan snatched it out of the air and spun away from his guards, taking two long steps towards the guardsman who stood over top of Shyvana. He smashed his fist into the T-shaped visor of one man's helmet, then spun and snap kicked the second in the side, sending him crashing to the ground. He hauled Shyvana to her feet with a single heave and then held the blade in front of him, pressing his back against Shyvana. They glanced around, watching as hundreds of heavily armored soldiers poured into the room. Jarvan let the tip of his sword clattered as he bounced it along the many weapons brandished at him.

Jarvan began to turn but stopped when he locked eyes with his childhood friend. Garen glared at him with a mix of disappointment and confusion, but he kept his sword sheathed, his arms crossed over his chest for now. Garen frowned, content simply to watch the confusion rather than getting caught up in it all. He seemed to know that if he was needed, he'd be asked. Jarvan glanced away, looking back towards the men who surrounded him. He stole a glance over his shoulder, glad to see Shyvana standing tall.

"That was ballsy and stupid." Jarvan growled under his breath.

"I thought I'd try and do what you'd do in my position." Shyvana said. Jarvan could hear the smirk she wore. "Felt good to try and take my anger out on him, and that helped me clear my head. Though it didn't really work, I _am_ glad your father possesses the same lightshield that you do." Jarvan stumbled for a second, nearly tripping over his own foot.

"You mean you didn't know?" Jarvan scoffed, looking over his shoulder. Shyvana gave him a toothy grin and shrugged.

"I was pretty sure." She laughed as Jarvan sighed and shook his head.

"So what now?" Jarvan asked, looking at the men who had surrounded them. They bore the crimson sash and plume of the Demacian Elite Royal Guard, not ones to be trifled with. "You planning on fighting out of here?"

"No... I, uh, actually I hadn't really planned this far ahead." Shyvana said sheepishly. "I kinda let my temper get the best of me."

"I'll say." Jarvan said, chuckling. "I'll admit I was impressed, just next time, gimme some warning when you've got another bright idea."

"Hey, I thought the best way to prove my strength would be to take him down a peg." Shyvana said blushing. "I may or may not have gotten a bit ahead of myself with my nervousness of meeting your parents and my utter frustration with your father."

"Yeah, he can be kind of an ass." Jarvan said quietly, struggling not to smirk. "He's always been a bit overbearing. Well, at least everyone's alright. How about you, Forsythe, you doing okay?"

"I'm not enjoying all these weapons pointed at me to be perfectly honest." Forsythe snarled, bending Colonel Walkurze's arm and getting an appropriate reaction. The colonel yelped in pain as Forsythe twisted his arm about, keeping the well sharpened rock still pressed to his neck. Blood had started to bead along the sharpened edge.

"I hope you know you're not getting away with this, bastard!" Walkurze snapped. "I'll see it that you and that witch burn!"

"Do me a favor and shut the fuck up." Forsythe growled. "Though if you like the idea, I'm sure my friend Miss Shyvana would love to give you a taste of flame." Walkurze stole a glance at Shyvana who smiled prettily, holding out a hand. A ball of flames snapped to life in her hand, dancing for a bit. Walkurze's face paled noticeably. "Thought so." Forsythe raised his knee up and then booted the colonel in the back of the right leg, sending the man crashing to his knees. Forysthe kept him from smashing face on the ground by holding his arm with one hand, using the other to keep the rock against his throat. "What's the plan boss?"

"Well..."

"Stand down!" The king bellowed, frowning. "All forces stand down." He turned his gaze to his son and though there was anger in his icy glare, there was a certain amount of approval as if he were complimenting his son on the strength of his companions. "Have your friends stand down as well."

"But sir!" The officer who led the reinforcements stammered, pointing at the seemingly renegade soldiers who stood isolated in the center of the mass of men. "They have one of our men hostage! Surely you don't expect me to stand by..."

"I do, and you will or you'll lose your commission and land yourself in the deepest dungeon I can find, Major." The king said, his voice even, despite the anger that was clear on his face. The officer looked surprised but slowly he nodded, stepping back and ordering his men to do the same. The soldiers lowered their weapons and took several steps back, grumbles and murmurs passing through the men, though the tension in the air was palpable. The king turned to Forsythe and glowered at the man but sighed after several moments.

"I appreciate the healthy vote of confidence in the young woman and my idiot son." Jarvan III growled. "But there is no need to do something as foolish as this. He may be a bit of a pain, but the colonel is only looking out for the safety of myself and my wife. Overzealous as he is, he's simply doing his job."

"I don't plan of letting this ass go." Forsythe growled as menacingly as possible. "Not before you call off the snipers." The king's eyes narrowed visibly as if he hadn't expected that demand and then he nodded, a thin smile appearing behind his beard.

"Perceptive, I see. Very well." He raised a hand and made a fist. There was a clicking of the hammer getting seated from high above. "They won't fire. Now please, let the good colonel go, he simply got ahead of himself, I had no intention of letting her get killed."

Forsythe met his gaze for a few moments, staring into the clear, ice blue eyes of the king for several moment before he let the rock drop away from the colonel's neck and he took a step back, kicking the colonel in the back. The officer stumbled forward onto his chest. He snarled as he struggled to his feet, trying his best to maintain what dignity he had left.

"READY YOUR WEAPONS!" He bellowed, waving his arm at the men who now stood at arms.

"Silence, Colonel Walkurze or I'll bounce those ranks tabs off your collar so fast you won't know what hit you." The king snarled, fitting the officer with a stormy glare. Walkurze reached up to check his collar to ensure his colonel's rank tabs were still there, blushing when he found them in place. He glared back at the king, his embarrassment turning into red faced fury, but he forced himself to turn away in disgust.

"Now, young woman, Shyvana." The king turned to look at her, watching as she met his gaze tentatively. "While I think your manners could use some work, I like your initiative and attitude." A tight lipped smile rested upon his face. "If you truly desire to become a warrior of Demacia, to protect her and all of her constituents, I shall give you the chance to prove your strength in a fair match. Do you accept this challenge?"

Shyvana exchanged a glance with Jarvan who frowned but nodded. Jarvan lowered his weapon and then turned towards where Walkurze was busy trying to salve his dignity still. "Catch." He gently tossed the sword, watching the color drain from the colonel's face with a grin. The man managed to catch the sword by the pommel, scowling as he sheathed it. Two soldiers stepped up to Jarvan and grabbed his arms, bending them around the staff of their lances, holding his arms crossed behind him.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana said nervously. Men seemed hesitant to approach her as they pulled Jarvan away from her. Several men tried to approach her but with a single glance she sent them scurrying backwards, their weapons still held towards her.

"I don't think you've got much in the way of a choice in this one." Jarvan wore a frown as he was manhandled by the soldiers. Shyvana looked unhappy as well but she turned to the king and nodded, bowing. She dipped at the waist and then stood full up.

"I accept your offer, your highness." She said quietly, matching the king's intensity.

"Good." The king mused with a smile.


	4. Chapter 3: Duel

"Good." Jarvan III wore a smirk as he looked about the room, his gaze settling on Garen. "You shall face off against Captain Crownguard in a one on one duel." His smirk darkened. "If you are able to defeat him, you shall be given a position within the Demacian Military. Are these terms acceptable to you?" Shyvana frowned but nodded. "Very good." He turned to Garen and smiled. "Captain Crownguard, are you up to the task?"

Garen didn't look too pleased but he nodded as well, the massive knight shifting from foot to foot. He stepped up closer before he nodded. "Of course, sir." He looked over Shyvana with a quick, dismissive gaze. He grunted inaudibly.

"We shall proceed to the veranda then." The king said, a smile forming on his face. "Colonel, as soon as you're done humiliating yourself and picking yourself up off the ground, escort my son and the others out to the Veranda. This will be interesting to watch."

"But your highness!" Colonel Walkurze tried to straighten his clothes but it only served to make a greater mess of his uniform. "This is ridiculous! She just made an attempt on your life! What if she tries again?"

"She wishes to join us, Walkurze." The king said, his displeasure starting to show as his bread twitched slightly. "Killing me wouldn't really serve to gain her anything. While the throne would pass to my son and he would be able to knight her, they would have singlehandedly alienated all of Demacia and torn the country asunder."

"But sir, I still can't condone..." Walkurze looked frustrated, his face red as opened him mouth again to complain.

"Enough of your useless blathering!" The king shouted, his glare darkening. Walkurze's face drained completely of color and he snapped to attention, his lips quivering in anger and fear. "Major Dillich?" The king turned and looked for the commander he had ordered to stand down earlier, the officer who had led the Palace Guard forces to reinforce the throne room. The officer stepped forward and saluted.

"Here, sir." The Major said, smartly.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel Dillich." The king said, pulling the golden lion tab that had been pinned to Walkurze's collar and handed it to now Colonel Dillich. "I expect good things from you, soldier." Dillich tried not to smile, but he saluted as smartly as possible, clicking his steel heels together.

"Yes, sir!"

"Good man." The king said, nodding. "Have your men escort my wife and the others out onto the Veranda, I'd like a moment with my son. That includes you two." The king glared at the two soldiers who still detained his son. They looked hesitant to release their captive, but did so after a few moments, leaving Jarvan to massage his wrists.

"Finally." Jarvan grumbled under his breath. The king waited until most of the guards had cleared. Shyvana and her four escorts were the last to leave, the dragoness trying to hover close to Jarvan.

"You may leave, young one." The king said, nodding to her.

"We'll be right behind you, Shyvana." Jarvan said with a reassuring smile. She looked hesitant but nodded and allowed the four guardsmen to lead her from the throne room. Jarvan watched with a frown as Walkurze slunked out behind them, glaring at Shyvana the entire way.

"Now, Jarvan..." The king began, meeting his son's gaze.

"If you wish to speak to me about Shyvana, then you can invite her back in here." Jarvan growled. "I don't think it fair to talk about her behind her back." The king chuckled and shook his head but looked up at his son, a mixture of pride and frustration on his face.

"I see how taken you are with her." The king said, neither anger nor happiness marking his voice.

"If you're going to tell me I can't see her, then I might as well take her and leave." Jarvan set his jaw defiantly.

"I wasn't going to, but with an attitude like that you may wish to take another few years and get it sorted." His father hissed. Jarvan frowned, but the king watched as his son's determination to remain defiant melted a bit. "If you'll listen to me a second, I was just going to warn you to be careful. Noxian forces have been probing our defenses for a while now and I fear that if you take on a woman who is not capable of taking care of herself may leave you in a position to be... _manipulated_."

"If you want to blame that on my escapades in Noxus..." His father shook his head interrupting Jarvan's accusation.

"You caused a bit of an uproar but this has been going on much longer than that." The king frowned, the age suddenly flooding his face, betraying a very breif moment of vulnerability. "I may not be happy with it, but I can't do but so much about it right now. I have other things on my plate that must be dealt with."

"Then why all of this?" Jarvan growled, waving to the mostly empty throne room. "If you knew so much about what was happening, why are you making us jump through these hoops?"

"You noticed, good." The king said, an amused smile on his face. "I don't like secrets." The glare returned, Jarvan set squarely in his father's sights. Though his father was shorter, and Jarvan was looking down at him, the king's glare was enough to silence Jarvan. His ice-blue eyes narrowed as he glared at his son. "If you have any secrets you'd like to share with me now, I'm all ears."

Jarvan felt uncomfortable, as if he were a child being scolded. His father's piercing glare seemed to cut through him, as if he could see the two secrets he still held onto. "No, father." Though his father smiled, Jarvan could see it wasn't genuine.

Something clouded his eyes.

"Then let's head to the Veranda, I'm sure everyone is waiting." The king moved off at an easy pace, letting his son follow behind.

The veranda overlooked the ocean distant, and the lower half of Demacia Proper. Stretching from the cape down to the coast around the natural harbor, the city looked majestic in the distant despite the midday haze that seemed to cover the city. Ships were anchored in the harbor, the white accents covering the city, motes of greens and golds showing through in places. Jarvan stood rigidly overlooking a depression in the middle of the Veranda, Garen and Shyvana standing in the middle of the shallow depression. Guards and soldiers were stretched out around the entire area, many of them talking quietly as the formed the makeshift perimeter.

"Father, if you're planning something..." Jarvan growled as his father took his place next to where Lady Catherine was waiting, watching the proceedings with disinterest. She seemed fretted over Shyvana, unable to make up her mind about the young woman. She turned and looked at her husband before looking back to where Garen and Shyvana were waiting to begin their duel. The elder Jarvan shook his head and held his hands together behind his back.

"What did you two talk about?" She asked, her displeasure with the fight evident in her tone of voice.

"Nothing, Catherine." The king said quietly. He tried to avoid his sons gaze, but the younger Jarvan looked angry still. "What is it? I thought I told you..."

"Call off all of this show and dance. It's not necessary." Jarvan growled. Though he towered over the elder Jarvan, he was dwarfed by the older man's commanding presence. The king met his gaze evenly, staring up at his son, and Jarvan felt a shiver worm down his spine.

"It'd be best if you watch your tongue, young one." Jarvan III said menacingly. "You don't want to say something you'll regret."

"I'll say whatever I think is necessary." Jarvan growled, glaring at his father angrily. He watched as Garen drew his great sword and stepped out into the large open area of the Veranda.

"Then I shall do the same." The king frowned. "I'm doing this to prove a point and to observe your ward's power for myself."

"Is this really necessary, Trey?" Lady Catherine looked as uncomfortable as her son. She looked over Jarvan IV with a frown on her face. Two soldiers, each as large as Jarvan, stood only a few feet back with their weapons at the ready in case he tried to interfere.

"It is, Catherine." The king said quietly, frowning. "You shall see before too long." He turned to Captain Walkurze who stood off to the side glaring at the young woman as if he was about to shoot daggers with her eyes. "Return the young woman's gauntlets, Captain."

Walkurze hesitated a moment, looking at the king. "Sir?"

"I doubt Captain Crownguard would appreciate a handicap." The king said, his annoyance growing as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Return her gauntlets, Captain." Dillich nodded to one of his men who took the gauntlets from the captain. The soldier crept forward, holding the gauntlets out to Shyvana. She took the smaller of the two, the one which was shaped like the bottom of a dragon's jaw. She slid her hand into the leather strap along the back and tightened it down to fit her arm loosely, flexing her hand around the handle that stretched across the guard. Satisfied it was set in place, she accepted the other and watched as the soldier retreated. She slid her hand in and tightened the leather down again, shaking the gauntlet to ensure it was holding. Satisfied, she sunk down a bit, settling into a fighting stance.

Garen watched her intently for a moment, his weapon held in one hand still. He brought it up before his face in a fencer's salute. Shyvana simply nodded.

"You may begin." The king shouted.

Shyvana cast a withering glance at the king, meeting his gaze for a moment.

Garen charged, his blade raised up over his shoulder as he stormed forth. Shyvana spun and swept backwards as the blade crashed down and hit the stone underfoot, sending fragments flying. Shyvana cloaked her legs in flames as she charged forth with fire swirling around her, the heat carrying her faster as Garen tried to bring his massive great sword up for a second strike. He brought it down again, but Shyvana had stopped just short, ducking the swing. Shyvana slammed her foot down on the blade, cocking her arm back as she came in for a strike.

Garen growled as he ripped his sword up in a strike aimed at cleaving Shyvana from the bottom up. She kicked off the powerful strike and arced up through the air, tossing herself back and landing gracefully. Flames now billowed around her, whipping her hair into a frenzy as heat poured off her body.

"Just what are you..." Garen muttered as he wiped his chin, bringing his weapon up. Shyvana sprinted forth with an inhuman burst of speed, immediately closing within Garen's defensive zone as he brought his sword up to block. She spun and punched the blade aside, the sound of steel on steel ringing as her gauntlet struck the blade. She finished her spin, flames cloaking her gauntlets as she hit Garen in the side once, slamming her right fist in hard. She followed it up with a quick right and then another left. Garen grunted against the blows, but he brought his weapon down in a swing that struck the stone again.

He staggered momentarily, gasping for breath as Shyvana skirted around the edge of his range, the prey now the predator. Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at him, looking for another opening to close and attack. Garen pushed himself up to his full height, reconsidering the woman, holding his blade between then as he matched her circling.

"They're equally matched." Lady Catherine said quietly as she watched the two warriors pace, each judging their opponent and looking for the first moment of weakness.

"No, they're not." The king said, a frown crossing his face. "She's holding back." He glanced at his son, who refused to meet his gaze, continuing to stare at the two warriors, two of his closest friends who now faced off. His eyes flickered towards the king for just a moment, but Jarvan III caught the glance. _You're still hiding something?_ "This should have been over in the first few blows."

"You think she's that strong?" Lady Catherine said, crossing her arms over her chest. "She looks so petite and frail."

"There's something else below the surface." Jarvan III said thoughtfully, stroking his beard as he watched Shyvana and Garen move in again to trade. "Those flames aren't normal."

Garen watched as Shyvana stole a glance away from the battle and charged. He raised his sword above his head as he sprinted forth, leaping as he brought the massive blade down with as much force as he could muster. Shyvana raised her gauntlets as the blade crashed down. Garen blinked when the blade struck the gauntlets and stopped. Shyvana snarled, her eyes now reptilians slits. Garen stumbled in disbelief as the flames grew higher and hotter, his blade beginning to turn red. She snarled and ripped the blade backwards and down, sending him crashing to the ground. Garen pushed himself up and rolled over, grasping for his sword. He glanced about for the weapon, seeing it sitting on the stone not far from him. He reached out for it, but a steel boot slammed down on his wrist, pinning him on the ground. He groaned as he stared up at Shyvana, her eyes glowing with a golden sheen, black slits running vertically in the center of the burning orbs. She bore her teeth, long fangs glittering in the light of her flames.

"You're _are_ a monster..." Garen growled.

"You haven't even begun to see my final form..." Shyvana snarled. She raised a fist up and cloaked it in flames, orange fire raging around her hand like the heart of a forge.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan shouted as she began to drop the hammer blow onto his forehead.

Her armored fist slammed into the ground mere inches from Garen's face, a wave of flames washing over his head. Garen's eyes grew wide as he stared at the blue leathery skin and armored scales on her arm. Her eyes dimmed as she blinked the golden slits away, the magenta orbs staring down into Garen's blue eyes. She took a step back, looking to Jarvan with fear in her eyes.

Garen pulled his knees to his chest, grabbing about for his sword and kicking out when he didn't find it, catching Shyvana in the chest with both feet. As she stumbled backwards gasping for breath, Garen brought his knees to his chest again, pushing against the stone ground with his hands and launched himself to his feet. He scooped up his sword as he charged forth, raising the blade up above his head. He brought his blade down hard, but Shyvana blocked with her gauntlets again, sparks bouncing along the ground. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back again, but Garen brought his sword up in a quick follow up strike, knocking her arms out of the way as he slammed his forehead into hers, sending her stumbling backwards again. Garen pressed his advantage, spinning with his blade held out at arms length. Shyvana managed to dodge the first spin of the blade, but Garen spun it upwards and then brought it down hard in a full cirlce, catching her on the arm.

Blood splattered upon the stone as Shyvana crashed backwards, clutching the gash in her arm with one hand as she hit the ground. Garen stood over her now, his blade held next to her neck as she stared up at him.

"Garen! Don't do it!" Jarvan shouted, struggling against the guards that held him.

"Prince Jarvan..." Garen looked over his shoulder, his sword still clutched in both hands, held to Shyvana's throat. He looked at his childhood friend, and the distress upon his face. Garen had to look away, the happiness he had felt at being reunited with his childhood friend now drained from his body. "...Apologies, my friend."

"Finish it, Captain Crownguard." The king ordered, his voice firm. Lady Catherine looked from her husband to her son and then to the ruby haired young woman who lay upon the ground, a sword at her throat.

"Father, no!" Jarvan IV snarled. Hatred swirled in his eyes as he stared up at the elder Lightshield, struggling against his wardens. "What the hell do you want, damnit? I didn't think even you'd do something this underhanded!"

"Keep him restrained!" Jarvan III snapped back with equal anger, watching as the gold, blue and white armored Demacian soldiers struggled with his disobedient son. They held their lances across the prince's chest, crossed and braced, but as the prince continued to struggle, the men were starting to give. _He's grown much stronger..._ Jarvan III let his expression mellow as he watched his son struggle as one of the strongest Champion of Demacia stood over a young woman who looked out of place amid the Demacian court. A crowd of staff had gathered around the terrace to watch the commotion, and Jarvan III surveyed them with a smirk. _It won't serve any purpose to do this in front of so many, but it must be done._ The king rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword which sat in its sheath upon his hip. "Captain Crownguard, you have your orders. Do it. There isn't a place in Demacia for the likes of a weakling like her."

"Jarvan..." Lady Catherine started to reach out to her son, but Jarvan III put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, shaking his head. Anger welled in her eyes as she stared up at her husband. "Why are you tormenting him like this, Trey?"

"Silence Catherine." Jarvan III ordered, glaring at his wife. "This is a battle, and she lost. She wasn't strong enough. Now, she must face the penalty for her actions."

Garen paused as he stood over the young woman, staring into the ice blue hardened glare of the King of Demacia. Garen's chest heaved as he used the back of his gloved hand to wipe blood from his chin. He brought his weapon up above his head and held it there, looking down over his quarry. Shyvana lay at his feet, her tattered red hair splayed out around her like a giant pool of blood. Blood poured from the deep gash on her arm, a bruise forming on her forehead. Her chest heaved with the exertion and fear, her entire body trembling slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his glare. Garen took a half step back, his mouth ajar.

Fire boiled in her violet eyes as they slowly swirled with golden color, her pupils narrowing to black diamonds. Blue scales started to show on her face as her face contorted in anger.

Garen shivered as he tightened his fists around his sword and lifted it up above his head. _Just what are you?_

"DO IT, CAPTAIN!" Jarvan III barked the order and Garen closed his eyes, unwilling to stare into the eyes of someone who had so much fight left in them as they died.

Garen brought his sword down in a cleaving swing, striking the stone just before her and driving his blade in deep. He grunted with the effort, but as Garen closed his eyes and began to radiate with power, the hum of steel could be heard ringing in the air. The blade sunk deeper as he poured all of his might and energy into the manifestation of his true strength. He exhaled and then shouted, driving the blade into the ground with as much force as he could muster, a flash of golden light enveloping the area as blue flames seemed to pour off of his body.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed. He sunk down and shoulder checked one of the guardsmen who now tried to restrain him, sending the man tumbling backwards. He grabbed the lance still held over his chest and hauled the other soldier over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground, his armor clattering as air exploded out of the soldier's mouth. Jarvan launched himself towards where Shyvana lay on the ground, a lance in his hands. "SHYVANA!"

A massive golden sword dropped from the sky.

Dust and steam exploded outwards, chunks of stone from the veranda bouncing to a halt along the ground. Garen looked up, pulling his sword from the ground and standing before the massive cloud. His sword hung in his hand at his side as he stared into the dust.

"No..." Jarvan's sprint slowed to a halt, his feet dragging along the ground. Garen turned to look at him, a sad look on his face. He refused to meet the prince's eyes.

"I'm sorry..." Garen whispered, but a rumble told a different story.

Garen slowly turned back towards the cloud and watched as something massive stirred within the impenetrable cloud. A black shadow rose up to three, almost four times his height, golden orbs glowing through the darkness like a lantern in a snowstorm.

Garen took a half step backwards, bringing his weapon up. "What in the name of-..."

"_Behold my true form!"_

A massive claw sliced out of the cloud and struck him in the chest, sending him flying backwards, his weapon skittering away from him. Garen gasped for breath as he clutched his stomach, his chest plate completely crushed. Though he felt his breathing freeze in his throat and begin to burn, he couldn't tear his eyes away from what was below him. Garen stared down at the massive purple scales claw that extended from the cloud as it scrapped along the stone leaving deep, jagged marks in the ground. They disappeared into the cloud for a brief moment, leaving dead silence to hang in the air.

"Dragon!" A soldier screamed, as terror seemed to erupt amid the crowd. People scattered in every direction, many soldiers frozen in terror as a gust of wind blew the obscuring cloud away, revealing a massive dragon. Armed with gleaming claws and fangs and armored with glittering purple scales, the beast snarled at the guards as some of them brought their weapons up. Other scattered to try and reform their ranks, but many had stumbled or fallen to the ground in their shock. Colonel Dillich stood rooted to his spot, his eyes as wide as saucers as the dragon took a single step forward and roared. The sound echoed across the veranda, drowning out the screeches of soldiers who had never faced anything like this before.

"Protect the king and queen!" Dillich bellowed, finally shaking off his shock. The soldiers, though gripped by fear, began to turn, steadfast loyalty drilled into them. They overcame their shock and then surged forward to form a wall of flesh and armor around the king and queen. "King Lightshield, Lady Catherine, please, let us get you to safety!" The king stood his ground and watched the dragon with an even glare, his arms crossed over his chest. Lady Catherine stood stunned, a look of surprise on her face as she covered her mouth with a hand.

"I don't believe it..." Lady Catherine murmured, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. "A dragon..."

"My lady!" The officer protested. She started to turn, but her husband grabbed her hand and held it firmly.

"Wait." He said, a frown marring his face.

"Sir?" Dillich looked surprised, but the king glared at him and Dillich immediately nodded and took a step back. Though he couldn't order the king and queen back, he would do his damnedest to keep them safe. Her order mages and shield bearers to the front to reinforce the lines, but before he could order a barrier up, Walkurze stepped forth, with the look of a madman on his face.

"Archers to the ready!" Walkurze shouted. The formation of archers hesitated for a moment, but they drew their arrows back, knocking them. "Prepare to fire!"

"Wait, stop!" Jarvan bellowed, sprinting forth. He spun and waved his arms in surrender as he approached the dragon, as if he was protecting her. The dragon looked down at him for a second, surprised, its golden eyes dancing over him, its mane of red hair shivering as it turned towards the archers and roared.

"Jarvan, what are you doing!" Lady Catherine screamed.

"Fire!" Walkurze shrieked.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed, his face aghast as arrows sliced through the air towards him. The dragon swept over top of him, a wall of flames incinerating the arrows. Blobs of molten steel struck the dragon's wing and bounced off harmlessly. The soldiers watched in horror as the dragon stood up higher and then roared at them with a demonic, inhuman tone. The sounds was pained and feminine, the note reaching a painful volume. The soldiers dropped their bows and clamped their hands over their ears, the screech of the dragon cutting through their skulls.

"What happened to Jarvan!" Lady Catherine gasped, her hands clamped over her ears even after the sound had died, tears streaking her face as she looked on in horror. "Has he been crushed? Trey, do something!" Lady Catherine looked aghast to find her husband unshaken by the appearance of the dragon or the loss of his son. She felt more tears begin to well in her eyes and she felt anger in her heart.

"Look." Jarvan III said, a small smile appearing on his face as he pointed back to the dragon. As if on queue, the dragon took a step backwards, pulling its wing back, the flames dying along the ground. Jarvan stood tall, his hand on the dragon's neck as he glared at his father. Jarvan turned to the dragon, running his hand along its scaly skin. "Thanks, Shy." The dragon dipped its head in a nod.

"Of course, my love." Shyvana rumbled. She turned her gaze towards the King and Queen.

"You mean to tell me... that dragon is that young girl?" Lady Catherine's mouth hung open as she stared at her son.

"Aye, mother." Jarvan said, nodding slightly.

"When you spoke of Faust... you said he raised you." The king said, a smile upon his face. It was neither cold nor menacing though. "You are actually his daughter by blood then?"

"That is correct." Shyvana rumbled. Jarvan pulled the cloak from his shoulders as Shyvana began to shrink, dropping to all fours as a pale, naked human girl. Jarvan wrapped the cloak around her shoulders as he helped her to her feet. "Thanks." She said with a quiet voice. She pulled the cloak closer around her. "My father was Faust, and my name is Shyvana. I am a half-dragon. " She paused. "If you will still allow me, I wish to remain by Jarvan's side and serve Demacia with my strength." She bowed in the direction of the king.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said quietly, taking her hand. She smiled at him bravely, and then met the king's gaze again. Jarvan turned and met his father stare brazenly. "Father, Shyvana has show her strength with which she can fight for Demacia and her people. She is strong, much stronger than you or I, and I challenge you to find me anyone who is a better exemplar of the Demacian spirit than she. I told her I would find her a place among our forces, and I ask you to help me honor my word."

The king stepped down from where he stood towards the middle of the terrace where Jarvan and Shyvana now stood. He paused, looking down at where Garen still sat on the ground, stunned and defeated.

"You lost, Captain" The king said bluntly. Garen grumbled as he started to push himself to his feet, wincing as he rolled onto his knees. Shyvana stepped up to him and proffered him a hand from within her cloak, using the other to hold it closed around her neck. Garen looked at it for a moment as if it were a viper about to strike before he grunted and pushed himself uneasily up to his feet, ignoring her offered hand. He stepped clear of Shyvana with a frown and tried to stand up straight, but he winced. "Are you hurt?"

"Not badly, sir." Garen said, his breathing a bit heavy, his tone wavering. "A few broken ribs, maybe."

"Get yourself patched up. Dismissed." The king turned his attention back to Jarvan and Shyvana as the knight saluted and then started to limp away. Jarvan III took several steps towards the couple who stood in the middle of the terrace. He stopped several feet short of where steam rose from the fire-blackened stone.

"Father..." Jarvan began to say, but he was silenced when the king raised a hand.

"Before you protest more, listen to what I have to say." He met his son's angry glare with an even gaze. Jarvan frowned but nodded. "Good. I knew from the beginning what you truly were, young lady. However, I did not know if you were able to control it. As appalling as my methods may have been, I needed to see proof that you are able to control that power you possess. When you saved my son from the volley of arrows, you showed the strength and control I needed proof of." Hesitation marked his voice as he paused. "While this may be somewhat late, I bid you welcome to Demacia and grant you official citizenship, young lady."

Shyvana looked surprised at first, but it soon turned into a smile. "Thank you!" She stammered, blushing furiously. Heat simmered off her head as she stared at the ground.

"If you truly desire to join the Demacia Military, you shall have to face many challenges." He paused again, waiting till she looked up and met her icy gaze. "If you still wish to proceed upon that path, I shall grant you permission to join the Elite Demacian Royal Guard... but not without proper training."

"Of course." Shyvana said, nodding.

"Good." The king said with a smile. "You'll begin training immediately. As for you, my son." The elder Jarvan turned his icy gaze back to his son. Jarvan's mouth tightened into a thin line, preparing for the worst. "Welcome home, my boy. It is good to see you well, though I suspect I have her to thank for that." Shyvana blushed when the king smiled at her.

"We work well together." Jarvan said, resting his hand across her waist.

"Indeed." The king mused, a slight smile playing over his lips. "I suppose that leaves the question for you. What are you going to do now that you have returned?"

Jarvan met his glare openly, and with a tone as cold and as steady as steel, Jarvan spoke. "I swear I shall bring the enemies of Demacia to their knees."

The king smiled. "Very good, my son." He reached out and grappled his son's shoulder. "It's good to have you home."


	5. Chapter 4: Council

Jarvan frowned as he tromped through the halls of the Demacian palace. He paused at a four way intersection, looking around as the footsteps that followed him came to a halt as well. Jarvan hung his head and sighed.

"Hail, prince." The call was deep in tone and Jarvan felt relief flood his stomach as he looked to the voice. Down the hall to his left, Garen Crownguard strode towards him, a soldier in tow. Though Jarvan couldn't remember his name, he recognized the dark complected soldier who snapped to attention when he came to a stop several feet away. He snapped off a salute with surprising intensity. Jarvan turned back to Garen and gave the captain a cocky grin.

"Garen, it's good to see you moving about." Jarvan said, trying not to let the smile become too imperious. The Demacian warrior walked up and casually saluted. Jarvan returned it, still trying, with difficulty, to keep his smile under control.

"You remember my lieutenant, Tunis, correct?" Garen said, gesturing to his companion. Jarvan stuck his hand out and smiled, the officer looking a bit surprised before accepting Jarvan's extend grasp. His handshake was surprisingly firm for small man..

"Welcome to the palace, Lieutenant." The man nodded but remained silent. Jarvan grappled Garen's forearm in a roman handshake for a brief moment before Garen dropped his arm, wincing a bit when he let the arm slap his leg a bit too hard. Jarvan grinned. "Still sore?"

"A bit, Jarvan." Garen shook his head, running a hand carefully over the right side of his chest. "Four broken ribs, three right and one left. Your friend really packs a punch."

"Caught you by surprise, did she?" Jarvan chuckled and Garen glowered. "Though, if you ask, I doubt she'd be above giving you a rematch on fairer terms." Garen shrugged, though Jarvan could see his competitive nature sparkling in his eyes.

"It was a dirty set up that I was doomed to fail at." Garen growled. Jarvan looked at him with a crooked grin until Garen glanced away, frowning. "But yes. I was caught by surprise. Speaking of, where is she? It was my understanding that she was given a position within the Royal Guard?" Jarvan's shoulder sunk for a moment and he shrugged.

"Father's one condition was that she undergo basic training." Jarvan motioned for Garen to walk with him and the brown haired warrior nodded, falling into step with him. "She's been assigned to Lt. Colonel Robert Spiritmight's training unit for a month long period, or until she is deemed ready for action." Garen read the frown on Jarvan's face as he spoke the officer's name.

"That's your uncle's battalion, right?" Garen said, gesturing to a corner. Jarvan looked down the opposite hall and then fell in beside his childhood friend.

Jarvan shrugged. "She should be in good hands." They slowed as they approached the entrance hall to the Demacian Council chambers.

"I've been meaning to ask..." Garen said, raising an eyebrow as he turned and looked back toward Jarvan. "Who're the kids?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the two young looking military officers who had been following them. Jarvan slowed to a halt and turned to face Garen, his shoulder sinking and a tired look washing over his face.

"Meet Sergeant Vivian Delancey..." The young looking blonde woman snapped to attention and saluted with a wide smile spreading on her face, dimples forming on her cheeks. She had light brown hair that was pulled back in a tight knot on the back of her head, though she had forelocks that had been died blue and fell to her just below her shoulders. Green eyes that sparkled with a mix of bubbliness and excitement, with a dash of mischief hiding just beneath the surface. She was lean, but Jarvan could only tell from where the fabric of her tunic clung to her body between the bulky armor she wore, giving her proportions an almost comical effect. Jarvan gestured to the second soldier. "...and Sergeant Wallace Lee." Lee was Delancey's opposite. While Delancey looked like she was ready to burst at the seams with energy and excitement, Lee looked about as bored as he could be. He managed to pull off a near perfect salute, and though his movements were crisp, his eyes were half closed with dark circles underneath. He had an olive complexion, dark eyes, and short black hair that was long along the top of his head, sweeping just over his brow. While he wore heavy armor nearly identical to Delancey, He stood nearly two feet taller than Delancey, and several inches taller than Jarvan. The sash over his right shoulder and the tome on his right hip signified he was either a paladin or some sort of combat mage. "My father assigned them as bodyguards but all they really do is trail me like a pair of lost puppies." Jarvan said in a deadpan voice. Garen frowned at the regulations their hairstyles broke, but as he looked back to Jarvan, a smug look slid onto his face.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir!" Delancey said happily, the squeaky excitement in her voice enough to clue Garen in to what it was like having her around. He tried not to snicker as the young woman finally dropped the salute, a massive smile still dominating her face.

"Charmed, Captain." Lee said stonily, dropping his salute and sliding into a parade rest stance. Garen returned their salutes and dropped his arm with a wince.

"I can't get even the slightest moment of privacy with these two around." Jarvan groaned, shaking his head. "They follow me everywhere from sun up to sun down." Jarvan shook his head, running a hand through his black hair as he looked over at the two bodyguards and stifled a grunt of exhaustion. "I think my father did this just to antagonize me."

"So nobility isn't all sunshine and daffodils, eh?" Garen chuckled when Jarvan glared at him with venom in his eyes.

"Har, har, aren't you just a regular comedian." Jarvan sneered, shaking his head. "On second thought, I think I'll just have Shyvana pound you flat into the ground next time, how about that? How'd you like a nice relaxing stay in the hospital instead of a few broken ribs?"

"Yeah well, there won't be any surprises next time." Garen said with an entertained grin. "Unless she can do something other than turn into a giant dragon."

"Well she breathes fire and can fly." Jarvan said, watching as Garen deadpanned, color draining from his face a brief moment. It was Jarvan's turn to laugh. "Maybe if you ask nicely though, she'll refrain from embarrassing you again if you do decide you want a rematch." Jarvan started moving again, though his feet seemed to drag a little.

"It might prove interesting." Garen said with a grin. "Any idea what's going on today? I didn't receive any information about the meeting other than to bring all of my information regarding my recent investigation in the Excursion case." Jarvan raised an eyebrow, the depressed look evaporating instantly.

"Excursion?" Jarvan repeated, looking over at his long time friend.

Garen nodded. "DDS Excursion, cargo sloop, Marlin-class. She was lost with all hands several months back, and we've barely been able to determine anything about her disappearance. It was initially chalked up to a bad storm, but recent searches turned up some wreckage and evidence of piracy. I was tasked with investigating it with help from the Institute of War."

"I see." Jarvan said expressionlessly. He stared straight ahead as they walked towards the end of the hallway. Though a number of doorways had led off to side of the hallway, the two heavily armed and armored guardsmen told Jarvan this was their destination. The guards snapped to attention and opened the doors, granting Jarvan and Garen and their small entourage entrance. They filed into the sloped chamber, benches and desks wrapping around the circular room. Large staircases led up and down the chamber on multiple sides and in the very center, there was a large open area. Tiers with more desk and chairs rose up around the room, many of the seats already filled.

"The Legislative Council." Delancey said in a small voice, surprised. She squeaked and covered her mouth, as Jarvan paused and then nodded.

"Indeed. Seems like we're not the only guests though." Jarvan said in a hushed tone. He pointed to where a beautiful blonde woman clad in gold and crimson armor stood off to one side of the open area in the bottom of the chamber. She was striking, though not just for her piercing blue eyes, but also the massive feathered wings that were perched along her back. The wings almost dwarfed her, but with the cream colored feathers quivering slightly as she talked with a Demacian official, Jarvan couldn't help but be surprised. "I don't recognize her..."

"That would be Kayle." Garen said quietly. "She's a champion with the Institute of War. She serves as one of their Judicators, though she isn't strictly aligned with any one city-state." Jarvan frowned, looking over at Garen and then back to the blonde. She glanced up and met his gaze. Jarvan felt electricity course through his body, as if he had just been punched in the gut. Jarvan looked to the floor, blinking as his head began to swim. He found himself winded. _What the hell was that?_

"Sir?" Lee said, frowning, taking a half step towards Jarvan. "Are you well, sir?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Jarvan growled waving him off. He stood up straight and forced his breathing to calm, though his chest began to burn as his body struggled to catch its breath. He looked back to the blonde, but she had turned her back, now deep in conversation with one of the Demacian Legislators, a noble from one of the houses that Jarvan didn't recognize right away.

"You said, her name was Kayle, correct?" Jarvan said, doing his best to not let the nerves his felt betray in his voice. Garen nodded. Something warm filtered through the air, but it wasn't just the warmth of the heat that was being pumped into the room. He felt as if he was hanging in a plain of nothingness, fog rolling gently against his skin. _I... I recognize this presence._ Jarvan shivered, trying to banish the feeling of Déjà vu.

"Yes. I've been working with her closely regarding the Excursion case." Garen paused a moment to look down at her. "She's supposedly thousands of years old and from another dimension entirely." Jarvan glanced over at Garen, a frown on his face.

"Wait... she's..." His voiced trailed off. She's like Kampf and Faust... Jarvan frowned as a young man dressed in blue and gold robes stepped up towards him, breaking his chain of thought.

"Prince Lightshield?" Jarvan nodded in response to the question. "Welcome to the Council Chambers, sir. Seats for you and Captain Crownguard are just around here, sir." He gestured towards part way around the highest row of desks and seats that wrapped around the room. The young man, his black hair showing beneath his robes, led them towards the seats, where two large chair sat waiting. "Please, have a seat, sir."

"Thank you." Jarvan pulled out his seat and eased himself down, crossing his arms over his chest. Garen sat down next to him and looked down across the chamber as the guide disappeared.

"The meeting will now be brought to order!" High Councilor Elias shuffled through a stack of papers that had been given to him several days prior by his assistant. He frowned as he passed through several pieces of paper before settling on one and drawing it from the pile.

"I have a proposal to extend an ambassador to the Freljord." He paused for a brief moment before looking back to the council.

"It was my understanding that the council already had an emissary in the Freljord?" The king said from his seat directly to the left of the High Councilor. The High Councilor nodded his head.

"Councilor Spiritmight, if you'd like to explain your proposal..." The high councilor looked to his far right, about a quarter of the way around the circle of the first row of seats, to a lanky man with long brown hair. The gray eyed man nodded appreciatively, standing.

"Thank you, High Councilor." He bowed graciously. "I'd actually like to hand the explanations over to my son, the emissary to the Freljord." He gestured to the young man who sat next to him, his back rigid and a perfected smile upon his face as he stood and bowed to the councilors. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Robert Spiritmight, and as I mentioned, he has been serving as the emissary to the Freljord up until recently."

"Well, Colonel Spiritmight, perhaps you'd like to bring us up to date on the Freljord affairs, then?" The High Councilor wore an annoyed frown as the torch got passed to the military officer.

"Of course, High Councilor." Lt. Col Spiritmight stepped up from his seat on the lowest row of desks, and bowed to the councilors who surrounded him, many who nodded their respects. "As many of you know, I returned recently from a long period of time spent amid the freezing wastes of the Freljord provinces to our north. Hosted by our tentative allies amid the Avarosan Tribe and their well known princess and League Champion, Ashe, I was able to tour and explore much of the Freljord. It is a beautiful but dangerous country, as the death of one of my chief aides to the winter storms quickly proved."

"One of the most important political moments early in my visit to the Freljord was actually a somber event." The Lieutenant Colonel Had begun pacing slowly about, his hands clasped behind his back in a intense but well rehearsed stance that gave him a thoughtful but serious appearance. "Mid august of last year marked the passing of the leader of one of the Ice Dervish Tribe, Princess Mauvole, known to her enemies and friends as _the_ Ice Dervish. As the next princess of the Ice Dervish tribe was coronated, the princess made a shocking but driving political move. She called for the abandonment of their long standing isolationist policies, which had left them feeling the ravages of the hostile environment, internal strife, and external political pressures. She then moved for her tribe to put their pride aside and to unite the two tribes under the leadership of the Avarosan Tribe and their princess, Ashe, the Frost Archer. Much to my surprise, the new Dervish Princess's motions were well received by her tribe in their home city of Rakelstake."

"While Sejuani, the princess of the Winter's Claw made a public statement of her displeasure with the choices of the Dervish Princess, she took no action, though I fear she may be preparing for war."

"Are you implying she would be willing to face the other two tribes all on her own?" A council woman suggested, though Jarvan couldn't place the voice. "That's madness!"

"While our scouts, working with Avarosan Ice Rangers, were unable to determine any realistic prospect of the Winter's Claw military forces, there were some disturbing discoveries made. While trying to determine the actual strength of enemy forces and locate weapon stockpiles, food stores and medical supplies, our scouts encountered units that were believed to be elements of a Noxian Expeditionary Brigade." He paused for effect, and listened with a muted smile as a murmur of dissent passed through the councilors. "Unfortunately, when my men tried to confirm this information... they sustained an eighty percent loss of forces to a combination of wild creatures and an avalanche while they tried to flee from said wild beast."

"What sort of wild beast was so fearsome that both Avarosan Ice Ranger and Demacian Scouts were driven to run like cowards?" Jarvan spoke aloud from the back of the room, a mix of fascination and anger in his voice. There was a ripple of whispers from the council as chairs scraped along the stone and people arched their necks to look to where the Prince sat at the top of the room.

"Ah yes, Prince Lightshield IV," Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight said, gesturing to the young prince, bowing in his direction. "As I recall, you spent a period of time roaming the wastes of Freljord in search of the biggest and nastiest threats you could find, correct?" Jarvan nodded slowly. "Then you could easily understand why the scouts ran into problems, considering they were equipped for long distance travel and silent movement, rather than troops of the line, similar to the warriors you led to the slaughter." Jarvan pushed himself to his feet, ready to vault the distance that separated him from the man who had dared insult him and his men. He bared his teeth in a snarl as his chair hit the floor as he jumped up, his mouth open to shout when the gavel struck the High Councilors' podium with a sharp _crack._

"That was uncalled for, Lieutenant Colonel." The high councilor said with an ominous frown.

"Apologies to both the Council and the Prince." The lieutenant colonel said with a well crafted frown. He bowed in Jarvan's direction as Jarvan scowled at him, accepting the chair that Sergeant Lee had lifted and set on all four legs. "I merely meant to get across the point that these troops valued their lives and this information, which they believed to be immensely valuable. While I did reprimand the few survivors, I believed the worth of the information to be invaluable."

"Do you have any suggestions for action with regards to this information?" The king wore a similarly serious and unamused expression to the one Jarvan had plastered over his face as he watched his uncle talk.

"While I don't think that the appearance of Noxian forces in the Freljord is surprising, their alliance with the Winter's Claw is slightly disturbing. Noxus has long been conducting missions aimed at the cleansing of barbarians in the far north know as the 'Barbarian Pacification Campaign', and I believe it was this information that finally drove the barbarians to seek an alliance with the Avarosan-Dervish alliance that now stands. While they may have been seeking political refuge from the likes of Noxus, the Barbarians did proceed to form an alliance, lead by Princess Ashe, the Frost Archer, and Tryndamere, the Barbarian king." Spiritmight paused, giving the council time to grow anxious. "It was the product of this unification of forces that led to the recent ascension of the Freljord to City-State status, and their acceptance of the Institute of War. With the accepted strength of both the Avarosan and Dervish tribes, bolstered by Tryndamere's barbarians, Princess Ashe was accepted as the Queen of the Freljord, _appointing_ Tryndamere as her King to confirm and bolster their alliance." A smattering of applause seemed to wash around the room, and though everyone knew it was directed at the new strength rising to face Demacia, Jarvan watched as Spiritmight seemed to bask in the glory. He raised a fist into the air triumphantly.

"Now, the Freljord is growing to become one of Demacia's strongest allies, though they are still struck by the internal strife caused by tensions with Sejuani's continued control of the Winter's Claw." He smiled as he let his arms spread out before him. "I would like to request the council open talks with the Freljord to expand our existing trade treaties and establish a formal alliance."

"While your political optimism is appreciated, Lieutenant Colonel, I think I speak for the council when I say we will need more time to consider our options when dealing with the new City-State of the Freljord." Councilor Laurent said aloud. While the council didn't offer words, Jarvan could look around and see that the general consensus was to adopt a wait and see attitude.

"Why wait, though?" Spiritmight said with a frown. "If we support this burgeoning nation it will only prove to benefit us in the long run..." When he received no support from the other councilors, frustration flooded over his face. His shoulders tightened, his arms trembling with rage. "This is utterly asinine! We should move now while the fruit is ripe!"

"Lieutenant Colonel, while your enthusiasm is appreciated, you will refrain from such outbursts in these council chambers or I will see to it you never return here." The High Councilor growled, rubbing his temples. Spiritmight looked fit to burst for a few moments till he took a deep breath and smoothed his uniform jacket with a tug and swipe of his hands.

"Apologies to the council." He bowed. "That concludes my report on the Freljord."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel." The High Councilors said firmly as Spiritmight took his seat. Silence filled the room for several moments. He sighed, rubbing his fingers over his temples in a gesture of frustration. "With this revelation of Noxian intent, it only reinforces the fact that information about Noxus is scarce these days." The High councilor said, prefacing the next topic, shaking his head as he laced his fingers on the desk before him. "Without a steady source of information regarding Noxian policies and developments, we'll be left open to ambush. Any information would be useful... has anyone heard anything useful to Demacia and her people? The floor is open."

"There is rumor of Yordle racism in Noxus..."

"Short of driving the already isolationist Yordle nation further into their own camp, what does that prove?" Councilor Buvelle said, her black hair swaying gently as she cocked her head, looking around the room. "We maintain positive relations and trade with the Yordles as best we can, despite their desires to try and separate themselves from the rest of Valoran. Their ambassador, Poppy, is active within the city and helps maintain the strong Yordle-Demacian relations through her actions in the Institute of War."

"They could easily destroy any prospect of ever hoping to maintain political relations with the Yordles." Councilor Krackoffen said, raising his voice to carry over the whispers and to silence the room. He stood, letting his thin shoulders spread to try and match the other councilor's bulk. "I dare say I mean no disrespect to the Yordle population both here in Demacia and across Valoran, but this is both beneficial for us and detrimental to the Noxians."

"While I appreciate Councilor's Buvelle's praise of my work, I feel as though I am as much Demacian as I am Yordle." Poppy, ambassador to Bandle City, said from the top row of the council chambers. Several of the Councilor's looked shocked to see her in attendance. While she was extended the right to sit in on her request, many of the other councilor's had obviously missed her presence. "It shames my Demacian pride to think that you would support the discrimination of our people for your own benefit."

"As I said, I meant no insult or injury to anyone when I said my brazen statement." Councilor Krackoffen said, running a hand over his salt and pepper beard, brown eyes dancing brightly. "However, I must ask, do you or any of your people have any intent to venture to Noxus any time soon?"

"I understand, councilor, but it isn't merely a matter so simple as to whether my countrymen and women ever venture into Noxus." Poppy growled, though Jarvan watched with some noticeable pleasure as the Yordle warrior struggled to keep the disgust at the council's underhanded measures out of her voice.

"But it is that simple!" Councilor Krackoffen said, starting to get to his feet again, fire now burning in his brown eyes. "We may not be at war at this moment, but as you know, Ambassador Poppy, both Bandle City and Demacia have felt the terrors of Noxian oppression in the past! If we stand by and do nothing, or allow Bandle City to lock horns with Noxus of their own volition, we can strengthen our relations with the Bandle City!" He spread his arms and smiled as a chorus of silent nods passed through the chambers. "You share full and equal rights here in Demacia, ambassador, please tell me Yordle-kind isn't nearly so arrogant as to let what Noxus thinks influence their politics?" The ambassador crossed her diminutive blue arms across her chest and remained silent for many moments.

"While I find your tact to be less than admirable," Poppy said with a sigh, "I can see the logic. Can we return to the topic of the discussion though?"

"Yes of course." Councilor Krackoffen said, resuming his seat, a bit of color in his face.

"Does anyone have news from Noxus?" The High Councilor said with a frown. "Anyone?"

Jarvan frowned as he looked down at the desk in front of him. _I should tell the council of the possible division within Noxian High Command... _Jarvan felt his hands convulse into fists along the top of his pant legs underneath the desk. He glared down at the desk. _Personal safety or the strength of my nation..._ Jarvan began to feel sick to his stomach. _If I say anything both Katarina and I will be arrested on so many counts of treason my father wouldn't even be able to save me. _Jarvan grimaced. _He'd probably swing the headman's ax himself._

"Perhaps the prince, who recently had a rematch with his eternal enemy, Jericho Swain, has some news from Noxus?" Jarvan started briefly, his heart fluttering for a moment. He shook off the moment of shock as quickly as he could, turning back to the councilors. Jarvan felt the eyes of the council chambers return to him once more.

_I don't have any evidence beside the testament of two Noxian Assassins and Shyvana... _Jarvan closed his eyes for a brief moment and then shook his head to clear his thoughts. He pushed himself to his feet and bowed briefly. "I'm sorry councilor, but I do not."

"Then perhaps you'd like to explain why you returned with a half dragon in your service?" Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight said nonchalantly. "Did you ever consider that your rather cute, young friend could be a Noxian spy?" Spiritmight looked down at a piece of parchment of his desk and then looked back at Jarvan. "And what's this about you nearly getting killed by her within the Noxian Gladiatorial arena? Maybe you've something to say about that?" Spiritmight sat back with a smug grin on his face, wondering how exactly the Prince would explain himself out of this one. Jarvan clenched his fists, the desire to throttle the arrogant officer gradually rising, but he did his best to try and maintain his composure, taking a deep breath and letting a frown settle on his face.

"Initially I was presumed to be dead by my company, however, unbeknownst to them, I had been captured by Noxian Forces under the command of Jericho Swain." Jarvan growled, fitting Spiritmight with a piercing glare. "Shyvana, my draconian companion you seem so interested in slandering, was searching for the would-be assassin at the time, venturing into Noxus."

"She only had a small amount of coin with her, which to my understanding she used to enter a gladiator's grudge match with heavy odds against her. She won this competition rather handily, resulting in the deaths of three of Noxus's prize fighters, and was scouted to become a Gladiator for the Noxian people's entertainment. When the previous Noxian Gladiator heard about her rising fame, entirely word of mouth I might add, he took it into his own hands to eliminate this threat to his fame and fortune. However, Noxian forces had her under surveillance during this time and they were able to keep her from facing an unfortunate fate. I was captured and imprisoned during this time, at the orders of Swain himself, though General Darius was the one who carried the order out. Seeking to spark an international war, he tried to have me executed by my own companion's hand in a gladiator battle. I'm still uncertain if this was intentional or simply a cruel twist of fate, but with Shyvana's _unique_ strengths, we were able to escape the arena and flee into the city."

"I see." Spiritmight said tersely, struggling to keep his incredulous expression under control. Chatter had risen to the point where it was almost hard to hear yourself think in the council. "Well... I... uh..."

"Apologies for the abruptness of my report." Jarvan said bowing as the chatter subsided, "However, I do not appreciate attacks on my personnel without them being here to defend themselves. If you would like to question her, and I am sure she would be glad to answer any questions you had, you can summon her, Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight, she was assigned to _your_ training battalion."

"Would you like to summon her?" The king said with a small grin tugging at his son's audacity and guts. "Well Lieutenant Colonel?" The attention had faded from Jarvan and had shifted to Spiritmight.

"No, sir." Spiritmight said tersely.

"Good, then perhaps we can continue?" The king growled. "Jarvan, If you please draft a detailed report of your time in Noxus to be analyzed..."

"Of course, your highness." Jarvan said. His father nodded his thanks and then turned to the High Councilor.

"If there is no other news to discuss then we shall-... Councilor Crownguard, you have news?" The High Councilor looked to where the tall, broad, mountain of a man that was Marcus Crownguard had stood. His clear blue eyes were placid and the head of the Crownguard family simply nodded his thanks.

"I apologize for not putting this forward earlier, but it has come to my attention that a drastic change has occurred in Noxus." A murmur passed through he other councilors as Captain Crownguard cleared his throat and stood up taller, as if that were possible. "Marcus Du Couteau, the infamous assassin and advocate of the League of Legends, and staunch supporter of the current Grand General, Boram Darkwill, has disappeared. In a disturbing and rather drastic turn of event, Lieutenant General Jericho Swain was promoted to fill the now absent spot within the Noxian High Command."

Another louder murmur passed through the council chambers. Jarvan had to close his mouth, slightly stunned as he sat back in his seat. "So that means..." He shook his head and ran a hand over his mouth, staring down at Councilor Crownguard. _Katarina thinks Swain may be behind the disappearance of her father then. If this information is true there really might be a division of power developing in Noxus. This could very well spell their downfall!_

"Silence!" The crack of the High Councilor's gavel striking the table muted the voices that had risen in almost an almost hysterical manner. Jarvan looked back towards the mountainous councilor. "Please, continue Councilor Crownguard."

"Thank you." Councilor Crownguard settled into a parade rest stance, his hands clasped at the small of his back. "Jericho Swain is an audacious and ambitious man, infamous for his brutal but effective actions in the Demacian-Noxian Border wars in the years after the introduction of the Institute of War. He was a continuing advocate of the renewal of conflicts, voicing his disgust with Noxian High Command's decision to so willingly give in to the weak minded peace advocates of the League of Legends. He is a known inciter of conflict, going so far as to attempt the assassination of Prince Jarvan IV when he was only thirteen, the first major incident marring the peace that followed the Armistice between Noxus and Demacia."

"The only other incident we have been able to definitively connect Swain with was the capture and subsequent decimation of Exemplar Company of the 8th King's Guard Battalion, over two years ago." Jarvan felt whispers about him begin to pass through the room and it made him feel sick. "Other than that, there are dozens of Noxian conspiracies and attacks that he is suspected of perpetrating. We can expect Noxian ideals and sentiments to turn change for the decidedly violent. We should consider increasing the border patrols and garrisons in outlying towns. While I don't know if action will be necessary right away, we should begin planning contingencies in the eventuality that Swain will move aggressively on Demacia."

"My staff can begin planning said contingencies, and with my son's help, we should be able to analyze what we know of his tactics to form a plan." The king said, nodding thoughtfully.

"Of course, sir." Councilor Crownguard returned to his seat.


	6. Chapter 5: Judicator

"Shall we continue, High Councilor?" The king said with a hand gesturing to get things rolling.

The High Councilor lifted a piece of parchment from his desk and glanced over it. He frowned then turned to the councilors and scanned the members for a brief moment before his eyes settled not far from where Jarvan sat. "Captain Crownguard, perhaps you would like to brief the Council on any new developments with the investigation regarding the DDS Excursion?"

"Of course, councilor." Garen said, standing up. He gestured for his lieutenant to follow before stepping behind Jarvan and then proceeding down to the center of the council chambers.

"Thank you for this chance, esteemed council members." Garen said, bowing gracefully. "As many of you know, I, Garen Crownguard, was chosen to lead the Demacian investigation of the loss of the DDS Excursion and all of her hands. The DDS Excursion is a Cargo Sloop who was reported lost at sea in July of year 20, CLE. Bound to the the Freljord Ports of the Avarosan Tribes to open the way for Lt. Col. Spiritmight's political venture she supposedly capsized in the rough seas. While we were able to determine that the ship was lost amid the Conqueror's sea, we have had trouble determining why or where the ship disappeared."

"Captain, I was led to believe that the ship was lost due to a freak summer storm." Councilor Brightstorm said aloud, a frown beneath his long blonde hair that fell neatly around his face. "And yet you say it was 'supposedly' lost to the storm. Could you please explain what you mean?"

"Of course, councilor. Our investigations have recently turned up further information that has led us to believe that the _attack_ was the result of piracy, not a freak storm." Garen said sternly. "While there was indeed a heavy storm at the time, with the help of my Institute colleague, we've determined it was not nearly as bad as we were first led to believe."

"What, dare I ask, led to these conclusions? What proof do you have of this information?" Councilor Spiritmight said, his son, the Lt. Col., sitting back as if he had just whispered something to his father. Garen scowled as the Lt. Colonel sat back with a smug smile. "If you have something to show us to convince us..." Garen began to open his mouth to protest when the very blonde, gold armor wearing woman stepped forth to stand amid the lowest row of seats along the council chambers. The quivering of her wings immediately drew the attention of the entire council.

"While your accusations may come with malcontent, Councilor, I did not come before this council to make pleasantries." She bowed her head gracefully as her giant, cream colored wings quivered irritably behind her. "At the request of Demacia, as a member of the Institute of War, I was dispatched to offer all of my knowledge and wisdom to help get to the bottom of this most grievous of incidents. Greetings, council members, I am Kayle the Judicator." Silence followed as the angelic being was greeted with a mix of nods and shakes of the head.

"Judicator Kayle, what information can you possibly produce?" Councilor Spiritmight said, a frown now clear on his face.

"As Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight, your son, can well confirm, as he was in Freljord at the time, the storm wasn't nearly of the magnitude it was report as." The look of fury the elder Spiritmight gave his son told the council that the Lieutenant Colonel hadn't mentioned it. "Captain Crownguard and I proceeded to the Avarosan Capital to speak with Ashe, the Frost Archer herself, about the storm. She confirmed that while the seas would have been choppy, they would not have led to the sinking of a ship."

"From there we began searching for the wreckage of the ship, but unfortunately, nothing but jettisoned cargo has been found." Garen paused, frowning at his lack of success. "I've extended a request for assistance from the Blue Flame isles. Their knowledge of deep water dredging and salvage techniques would be invaluable. With Kayle's assistance we additionally asked a fellow Champion, the representative of Bilgewater, Gangplank, for his assistance in the operations. However, he declined."

"You seriously asked the son of Vincent the Shadow for help?" An anonymous voice said incredulously.

"In times of emergency, you should never write off an alternative before even investigating it." Kayle said bluntly.

"There is more information, though." Garen said, warding off further arguments that he could feel welling in the room. Silence settled over the council chamber. "Early in my investigations, a small amount of wreckage _was_ recovered along the shores of the Freljord. It was at that point we turned to the League for assistance and Kayle was dispatched to assist."

"With help of League Summoners, we were able to determine that magics above the maximum potency allowed by the Institute of War was used in the attack, as well as necromancy." Kayle said firmly.

"Necromancy?" Councilor Spiritmight chimed, rolling his eyes. "You don't expect me to believe you found Noxian Necromantic Sorcery upon a boards from the ship..."

"Actually no, but the remains of a reanimated corpse wrapped in the singed remains of part of the sloop's mast and rigging was a rather clear indication." Kayle said evenly, watching as Spiritmight's eyes seemed to bug out as chuckles passed through the council chambers. "While piracy in all forms plagues every city-state, only two city-states allow the practice of Necromancy."

"Zaun and Noxus." The king growled, sinking a bit in his seat.

"Yes, your highness." Garen said, nodding.

"What did constituents of their respective city-states say about it?" Councilor Krackoffen asked curiously.

"While Zaun has refused to respond, Katarina Du Couteau had some choice words in response about our trade tactics. However she denied Noxian involvement in the attack." Garen shrugged and frowned. "Unfortunately, we are still investigating further leads, but both Kayle and my involvements in Kalamanda have delayed our furthering the investigation."

"Thank you, Captain, Miss Kayle." The High Councilor said, nodding at the blonde. She bowed shallowly and returned to her seat, as Garen bowed deeply, backing away as he turned and proceeded back to his seat.

"Good job." Jarvan said quietly as Garen sat down next to him and exhaled heavily.

"Your uncle and grandfather are a real pain, you know that?" Garen said, shaking his head.

"I've heard as much." Jarvan said with a soft chuckle. "Robert is a real hardliner with political ambitions, and Haywood is trying to secure the Spiritmight line before turning it over to Robert after he's done with his tenure in the military, making a mark amid the ranks and such."

"Figures." Garen growled, rolling his eyes. "Politics."

"With the council's permission, I'd like to propose a recess for several days." The king said, standing. "I know Kalamanda is still weighing heavily on everyone's minds right now, and I'd like the time to prepare and gather more information and ascertain a finalized docket of exactly what we're facing in the region. With supplies and our own troops now on the way to reinforce the town, I can't offer an accurate reaction to what will change in the near future."

"Are there any qualms with the King's request?" High Councilor Elias said, looking around the room. He was met with silence. "Very well. This Council will recess for two days, at which point we will reconvene to discuss the issue of the Kalamanda Mineral Rights dispute. This council is dismissed." Jarvan turned and glanced around the room, waiting for the gavel to strike the desk and signal the fact that he could finally get out of the council chambers, which were a bit too warm for his tastes. Something dangerous flashed through Kayle's eyes as they locked for a brief moment. Electricity surged through Jarvan's body as he felt all of his hair stand on end and then he felt as if he had been slammed in the gut. He shivered as he tried to hide the fact he was winded, looking around, utter silence creating a void around him.

Jarvan looked to his left and then to his right, frowning as the entire council chambers stood frozen. Jarvan pushed himself up and looked to Garen, a frown dark on his face.

"Garen?" Jarvan waved his hand in front of the soldier's face. "Garen!"

"He's in temporal stasis right now." A strong voice said from the bottom of the room. Jarvan felt his throat go dry as he looked back at Garen, the man completely frozen mid movement. "He'll be fine as soon as we're finished."

"What did you do to him?" Jarvan snarled, glaring down at the woman who stood serenely in the middle of the room. "Who are you! A Noxian assassin?"

Kayle's laughter filled the room, her voice rich, feminine, and full of strength. "Heavens, no." She wore an entertained smile as she bowed her head. "I am who I appear to be, Jarvan Lightshield IV, Kayle, a Judicator of the institute of War." Jarvan started down the stairs towards the Judicator, but he paused, running his hands along a councilor's robes. The fabric flowed freely, swaying normally beneath her arm.

"What... what is this?" Jarvan stammered, frowning as he looked around. His father, the High Councilor, his uncle and grandfather were all frozen. "Everyone is …frozen."

"We are contained within a temporal stasis bubble." She gestured to the men and women in the room. "They will be fine when I collapse the bubble. A half second of queasiness at most."

"How then... how did you do this?" Jarvan dared not advance any further than the last step along the bottom of the stairs that led to the center of the chambers. Kayle lifted a golden chain from her armored collar, revealing an hourglass that wasn't much larger in diameter than Jarvan's thumb.

"This is the artifact known as Zhonya's Hourglass." Kayle said, holding the hourglass on her palm. "It is capable to granting the user the ability to briefly freeze themselves in a miniscule time-space bubble where they are unable to be harmed, or if you know how to use it, you can do this." She gestured to the room. "A large time-space bubble that freezes all energy in the area the user projects it over."

"You mean..." Jarvan started to poke someone.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, anything they _could_ feel, they _will_ feel." Kayle said softly. "However, the workings of a League artifact is unimportant right now." Jarvan said nothing, still refusing to move closer. "I come with a warning, Prince Lightshield. A ring with powers similar to this was stolen from the Arcane Vault. While we've been unable to determine who stole the artifact, we have reason to believe you may be a target for assassination."

"Me?" Jarvan said, frowning. "Why m-... you think the Noxian forces are behind it?" He narrowed his eyes as Kayle shook her head, pale golden locks bouncing around her face.

"Not the Noxians specifically, but someone within the institute with Noxian or Zaunite sympathies." She shrugged with some effort, her armor shifting as she did. Jarvan paused, frowning.

"I thought the Judicators were supposed to be unbiased?" Jarvan said, shifting from foot to foot. "Why are you warning me?"

"We are." Kayle said stiffly, though Jarvan saw a sliver of a frown upon her lips. "The issue stems from several things." She shook her head. "My sister serves Noxian summoners in exchange for untold power. While I refuse to take sides, anything that limits the power she can receive from the Noxian Summoners furthers my goals."

"So this is personal?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, it is for the sake of peace." Kayle said firmly, meeting his gaze again. "I do not want a war to start between Demacia and Noxus, and while both city-states have made substantial motions to maintain that peace, the Institute of War hasn't overlooked the build up of forces on both sides. If you were to be assassinated, it would easily spark a war from which there would be no survivors." She sighed, her shoulders sinking slightly. "I fear that someone within the league is encouraging the prospect of war. If someone sparks a conflict, the results will likely be bloody and swift. Which brings me to my purpose here."

"You desire me to work as a brake on the Demacian war machine." Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes." Kayle said, meeting his openly brazen glare with a neutral expression. "I need someone I can trust who will serve to keep the Demacians from striking out violently in response to anything that may happen in the coming months. With so many different forces conspiring against our unsteady peace, Demacia needs someone who sees sense and has the country's best interests, not just the country's expansion in mind. You seem to be in the perfect position to do so."

"Makes sense..." Jarvan said, frowning. "I'll do what I can but I don't know if I'll be of any use." He shook his head, glowering. "Many people doubt my conviction and my motives. I don't have much in the way of political traction either." Jarvan shrugged. "Power? I have that in spades, but I don't know if I'd be able to make anything happen... People don't have any reason to trust me. The last two times I had a company, they kinda all died. People don't like that in a leader. Besides, I don't know if I could stand by and let Noxus dance on our graves." He fitted Kayle with a sad smile.

"All I ask is that you keep Demacia from walking into a trap." Kayle said softly. Jarvan tried to look defiant, but his frown softened and he nodded.

"I'll do what I can." Jarvan said with a sigh.

"Thank you." Kayle smiled, as if she had been relieved of a great burden. "And if I could make a suggestion..." Jarvan looked to her for a moment and then nodded, gesturing that she continue on. "You should surround yourself with powerful allies, both in fighting skill and political prowess. You are going to need the support of your nation in this world. You can no longer bull your way through ignoring politics and trying to slay foes who stand before you. The world has become much more complex than that."

"I have surrounded myself with strong warriors and political strength flows in my family." Jarvan said defiantly, sticking out his chest. The gesture softened a bit as Jarvan shook his head and exhaled heavily. "But I shall take your words under advisement."

"I urge that you do." Kayle said softly. "And I hope you haven't forgotten your obligation to the League you promised me..." Jarvan blanked for a moment and then his eyes went wide.

"I was right! That was you!" Jarvan said scowling. "I was dead though, how were you able to..." He frowned as Kayle smiled.

"That was me, yes." Kayle said with a smile. "The League maintains many powerful artifacts. While you may have been dead for a short period, I have long been watching the movements of both you and Katarina Du Couteau. When your first encounter turned sour, I thought you would be able to go underground and discover answers to this darkening conspiracy that surrounds you and Miss Du Couteau." Kayle's expression darkened. "I left you in stasis with the intent of reviving you and summoning you to the League of Legends to complete your obligation, but you managed to brute force your way out of the induced stasis and were promptly captured by Noxian forces."

"Did you have to let me get buried?" Jarvan growled, trying to hide his shock with anger.

"You have a very loyal lover in your dragon companion, Prince." Kayle said with a faint smile playing over her lips. "I know not if she's told you, but she spent three days guarding your body, almost to the point of death by dehydration. She is strong and loyal, a powerful ally."

Jarvan stared at the ground.. He hadn't heard about that detail.

"I know." He said meekly, a bit of color flowing into his cheeks.

"Our time is running short." Kayle said, nodding. "If you would like to accompany me to the Institute of War to complete your promise now, I can ensure your safety from anything or anyone that may try..." She fell silent as Jarvan smiled and raised his hand.

"While I don't think I can thank you enough for the warning, I haven't forgotten my promise." Jarvan said with a somber expression. "I have some prior obligations I must see to before I am able to commit to the Institute of War though. When I am through with them, or as soon as I am able, I will join the League."

"Thank you." Kayle said, a firm but warm smile on her face. "I'm going to revert the temporal rift. You should return to your seat." Jarvan nodded and moved to his chair, careful to duck between Lee and Garen. He slumped down and sighed heavily, running a hand over his face.

_What the hell have I gotten myself into..._

The gavel struck the desk with a loud _crack._

"I'm glad that's over." Garen said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and letting his broad shoulders sink slightly lower in his chair. "I wasn't exactly looking forward to dealing the councilors grilling me about Kalamanda as well." Jarvan shook the moment of disorientation off as he flexed his hand and took a deep breath.

"I need to go fight someone." Jarvan muttered, glaring down towards where several councilors circled around his Uncle Robert. Jarvan grimaced. He had never liked the man, and while he had proved a loyal officer, there had always been tension between Jarvan's father and his brother-in-law. When Jarvan III had ascended to the throne, he had become nigh-untouchable. When that had happened, Robert Spiritmight's attention had turned to that of his nephew, the then young Prince Jarvan. Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and stretched his arms above his head.

"Sir?" Garen raised an eyebrow as he looked up at the prince curiously. "Who do you need to fight?"

"Not one person... just... someone." He hopped in place briefly, trying to stretch the muscles in his legs out. "I can't stand these infernal meetings."

"I thought you seemed restless." Garen said, shaking his head.

"Maybe I should go drop in on Shyvana... see if she needs a sparring partner." Jarvan grinned at the idea, but Garen's frown told him that it would probably end up being a bad idea. "Well maybe you'd like to go a round or two?"

"What and whoop your ass in front of these young, impressionable troops?" Garen said jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Jarvan's two guards.

"In your dreams, maybe." Jarvan snarled, a bit more venom in his voice than he intended. Garen shrugged and turned to head to the door, waiting for the councilors and their aides to stop clogging the way.

_I wonder what I have up next?_ Jarvan sighed, shifting from foot to foot. _I miss Shyvana already and it's barely been two days. _While he had been lost amid his thoughts, he had completely missed the muted clank of metal boots on the ground.

"Jarvan?" Garen spoke aloud, grasping his shoulder.

"Huh?" Jarvan blinked, looking about as he snapped himself back to the real world. "Sorry, I..." Garen coughed into his fist and silenced Jarvan, the prince getting the hint before he was able to make a further fool of himself. Before him stood the woman who was clad in gold and crimson armor. Up close, Jarvan realized there was an inhuman beauty to the woman not unlike that of Shyvana, but somehow, Kayle was different, as if she were ethereal. He had missed it during the discussion before, but now that she stood only a few feet away, it was almost haunting. She had piercing blue eyes that were so brilliant they gleamed like the sky, and hair that shimmered almost as rich a color as her gold armor framed her face.

"This is Kayle the Judicator." Garen said officially. Jarvan blushed slightly as she extended her hand and gave him a warm smile. Jarvan accepted her grasp and shook briefly. He tried to draw his hand back, but her grip tightened slightly and she met his gaze, her piercing blue eyes cutting through him. A chill ran down his spine as a familiar sensation washed over his body, as if he was suddenly weightless and floating in a void. He blinked a few times and the sensation passed as Kayle finally let go of his hand.

Jarvan forced a smile onto his face to mask the confusion he felt at having her approach him again. He blanked for a moment and then tried to let the smile spread. "Greetings, Judicator Kayle, Welcome to Demacia." He met her gaze and gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"I've heard many great things about you, Prince Lightshield." Her voice was strong and commanding, though it carried a warmth to it that told Jarvan that she was not simply being polite. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Please, call me Jarvan." He said, nodding. "Getting called Lightshield makes me feel like my father."

Kayle laughed throatily, a smile crossing her face as she nodded knowingly. "When you've lived several millennium, you learn that trying to fill your father's shoes only allows you to tread where he has tread." She paused, glancing towards where the king stood amid a crowd of soldiers, aides and council members. "But even for my first few centuries of life I yearned for my father's success." She adopted a somber tone as she spoke, shaking her head slightly as her wings quivered behind her. She turned back to Jarvan and had to hide a giggle when he caught himself staring at her.

"Apologies, I had only heard rumors of your age..." Jarvan said quietly. "It should have not come as a shock, a close friend of mine, her father that is, was several thousands of years old." Something dangerous flashed through Kayle's eyes as they locked for a brief moment.

"I'd love to meet this friend of yours if possible." Kayle said with a smile, "I've long studied Runeterra's history in the hopes of learning from past mistakes to prevent them from being repeated. If she knows anything that could help..."

"I'll ask her if she'd be willing." Jarvan said, nodding, wondering if he'd even be able to have the chance to go visit Shyvana so he could ask. "Garen, are you familiar with the training schedule that the battalion uses?" Garen frowned as he glanced at Jarvan.

"Apologies sir, I do not." He said tersely, his disapproval clear upon his face.

"Alas, another time then." Kayle said, smiling. She put a hand on Jarvan's shoulder. _Take care of yourself, and stay vigilant. _"Good bye, Prince Jarvan. It was a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you, Kayle." Jarvan nodded. As she turned to leave, a voice hailed her from below.

"I'd like to thank the league's diligence for responding to our summons." Jarvan III paused as he approached the door, nodding at the League Champion. "The Institute and your assistance had been invaluable so far."

"Thank you for your kind words, your majesty." Kayle said, bowing her head gracefully. "I'm hoping that there won't be any more delays in these matters, but I fear the worst regarding the mining dispute in Kalamanda."

"Demacia shall prevail, I have no doubt." The king said, nodding and grinning.

"While many would view blind confidence as inspiring, I have often viewed it as an ulterior motive at work." Kayle said, her voice neutral.

"Was that a threat, Judicator?" The king growled, stopping and turning fully towards Kayle, raising himself up slightly as if his stature would intimidate her. His eye had darkened to the color of thunderheads, and Jarvan could have sworn he saw lightning crackle in the king's glare.

"Consider it a warning." Kayle said, still maintaining a placid expression. The king straightened up, a frown half hidden behind his beard.

"I'll keep it in mind." The king said sternly. "Captain, I recall you were escorting the Judicator to Kalamanda?"

Garen nodded. "Yes, sir. We depart this afternoon."

"Very well." The king said, turning. Garen took the hint to escort the Judicator out and gestured that she follow. While she didn't let her displeasure at being all but told to leave, she simply nodded with a polite smile upon her face.

"This way, ma'am." Garen waved his goodbye to Jarvan and then disappeared with the Judicator following in his wake.

The king watched them go, finally turning back to his son. "Jarvan, are you busy?"

"I believe this was the last scheduled meeting for the day." Jarvan frowned, thinking back to his schedule. "I had planned to go and examine the training grounds and then have dinner with Shy-..."

"I'd like you to begin working with Councilor Crownguard's staff immediately. I'll assign you an administrative assistant to assist you in your planning, as well " He gave his son a glare that was as menacing as it was icy, daring his son to oppose his will. "And I would like that report on your actions in Noxus as well. Have your assistant duplicate it and forward a copy to the Councilor's staff to include in his analysis of Swain's involvement in Noxus."

"Yes, sir." Jarvan growled. "Anything else, sir?"

"Brush up on the existing reports from Kalamanda. Have one of your men talk to the clerk in my office and have them send you the files." The king paused.

"Anything else?" Jarvan said through clenched teeth.

"Your mother asked for you to attend dinner with us tonight." The king scratched his chin, a pondering look on his face. "Be ready at seven."

"Anything else?" Jarvan growled.

"I'd like it all done before the reconvened Council Meeting." Jarvan's jaw hit the floor.

"That's not enough time to get all that done..." Jarvan stammered.

"You'll do it and you'll like it." His father's eyes clouded over, a deep, menacing blue color. Jarvan opened his mouth to protest about how he wouldn't have any time to share with Shyvana, but the angered looked his father wore told him that may have been the idea. Jarvan swallowed his anger and saluted as the king's glare softened. He nodded approvingly and then turned on his heel, disappearing into the crowd of soldiers and councilors, nothing but a sea of blue and gold color remaining in his wake. Jarvan clenched his fists and sighed, gathering his thoughts. He turned to his escorts.

"Sergeant Lee, go find one of Councilor Crownguard's aides and set up a meeting between the councilor and myself." Jarvan ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling much more tired than he should have this early in the afternoon. "And see if you can scare up any more news from Noxus. Then find Noel and have her bring a pot of coffee to my study, we're going to need it."

"Sir." Lee saluted and spun, disappearing to complete his orders.

"Sergeant Delancey, head to the academy and check their archives for any records on Swain's marital service and any history of before he joined the Noxian Military." Jarvan paused. "When you're done with that, fetch me the reports from the clerks in the king's office and take them all to my study. Oh and see if he's already assigned a secretary to me."

"Uh... yes sir." She said, hesitantly.

"Problem Delancey?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow, as the blue and brown haired soldier frowned slightly, her normally smiling face somewhat conflicted. "If you've got an issue with my orders, just out and say it."

"Well sir, I graduated top of my class at the Demacian Military academy and I don't..." She wore a frown that told Jarvan that she was uncomfortable with his requests. Her blue locks of hair swayed as she shifted from foot to foot.

"Don't what, sergeant? You don't enjoy paper work?" Jarvan said, crossly as he leaned on the back of his chair he had sat in through the meeting. "Join the fucking party. I can't stand paperwork, and honestly, I don't enjoy _not_ getting to see my girlfriend because of it. If you'd like to log a formal complaint with personnel, be my guest." Jarvan stood up straighter and jabbed a finger through the air at her chest. "Do it when you hand in your resignation papers."

"Sir, I'd like to retract my statement, sir." Delancey said, tightly, snapping to attention. Jarvan sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he collapsed against the back of the chair. He took off his helmet and shook his black hair down into his face for a brief moment before running his hand through his hair, sweeping it over the back of his head. He looked down at the crown and then shook his head, looking at Delancey, her eyes glued to the opposite wall, unwilling to risk even looking at Jarvan.

"Sorry, sergeant... I didn't mean that." Jarvan said, shaking his head slightly as he leaned a bit heavier against his chair. "It's just been a long couple of days." He waited for her to drop out of attention but he realized that she probably wouldn't till he gave her the command. "At ease, Delancey."

"Yes, sir." She said, the mix of anger, regret and determination a soldier wore when getting dressed down slowly beginning to melt. She looked at Jarvan and saw the almost pitiful look of depression on his face. "Prince Jarvan..."

"Look, if we're going to work together, just call me Jarvan when there aren't many others around." The prince said, pushing himself up and snapping his helm into place. "I have more than enough reminders of the responsibilities I carry right now. Walk with me." He waved for her to follow him, and started to head to the door.

"Yes, sir." She said again. Jarvan stopped several paces away and glanced over at her, his eyebrow twitching as he glared at her and she caught herself. "Oh! Uh... sure, Jarvan..."

"Better." Jarvan said nodding approvingly. He turned back and started walking, letting Delancey catch up before he picked his pace up. "I'm just a bit anxious after being cooped up in meeting after meeting for three days straight, all while being cut off from those who I've spent almost all of the last two months with. It's been difficult to adapt and I'm a bit like a hawk in a cage right now." He sighed, shaking his head. He stretched his arms above his head.

"I know what you mean." Delancey said, smiling, starting to reconsider the prince. "I'll meet you when I have the documents, sir."

"Good." Jarvan said, nodding. He watched as Delancey turned off down another hallway, leaving Jarvan alone in an intersection. He glanced at the clock and glowered, staring out of the large window as the sun started to pass the highest spires along the horizon.

_Sorry, Shy. I'll come see you as soon as I can._


	7. Chapter 6: Chickadee

Shyvana pulled the small piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, looking at the notes on it. She read down the list of instructions and then looked at the last line. _...and left at the large golden lion. _She nodded to herself and took a deep breath, starting up the steps. Shyvana passed the massive golden lion, pausing just a moment to glance into its gleaming emerald eyes. She continued up the steps and then stopped and looked up at the bell tower that hung high above the door. Cast iron reinforced heavy timbers that looked older than some of the ruins that dotted Shurima. She looked to the building itself, rough granite stone walls were reinforced by massive timbers, the dressed wood gleaming against the pale gray stone. She stepped up to one of the tall vertical timbers, and looked at the heavy timber. Hundreds of small marks marred the reinforcing pillar, as if someone had used it as a training dummy, swinging at the wood over and over. She ran her fingers over the wood, taking in the small ridges and bumps. Behind her, the door opened with a creak, and Shyvana took a half step backwards, sneaking her hands behind her back nervously.

"That's known as the Marking Post." The woman who stepped out of the door wore a happy smile, her pale skin gleaming like polished china as ghostly white bangs bounced around her face. She snapped to attention and saluted Shyvana. She had her long hair pulled back in a braid that swayed behind her, tied off with a ribbon of the Demacian gold and blue color. Her cheeks were flushed with just a bit of color but her haunted, deep red eyes immediately caused Shyvana to stare. The woman looked surprised for a moment but she gave Shyvana a glowing smile. "Hi, my name is Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper, but you can call me June!" Her voice was polite and happy, almost to the point where it was sticky sweet.

"I was told to report to the Palace Barracks?" Shyvana said nervously, realizing she had been staring at Alicia's eyes. She glanced at the ground.

"You've come to the right place." Alicia said nodding, gesturing to the massive stone building.

"Gunny!" A gruff voice shouted from inside, cutting her off as she opened her mouth to continue.

"Coming, Lieutenant Vorscham!" Alicia shouted into the building, gesturing for Shyvana to follow. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the LT." Shyvana nodded and followed silently as Alicia led her past the Marking Post, the massive doors and into the darkened hallway, lit by flickering torches. A pair of soldiers approached from within, one with a large smile spreading over his face as he saw the two women approaching.

"Hey June, you got those new chocolate bars in yet?" A soldier shouted with a wide grin as Shyvana and Alicia passed.

"I only put the order in yesterday, Felix." June said testily, though she wore a smile. "They'll be in by next week. Now shoo, I'm on platoon business right now." The soldier glanced at Shyvana and frowned but shrugged and waved as he turned, heading for the door.

"See ya." He shouted as he strode away. Shyvana fell into step with Alicia, glancing at the woman as she hummed softly to herself. They passed through a tall archway and into a massive room.

Inside was a large room, spreading out along what looked like the majority of the front of the building. Chairs and tables were littered around the area, with a number of soldiers lazing about, some eating, some sharpening weapons. All eyes immediately turned to Shyvana as they entered, and she could see them all immediately begin to judge her. She could feel eyes both sizing her up and undressing her, and it made her skin crawl. Far to the right of the large, high vaulted ceilings was a cage that ran from ceiling to floor and it looked like it had once been an armory. Some arms were contained within, but from what Shyvana could see, it was mostly rifles and other things of the sort. To the far left was a small stall that was stocked with a mix of food, literature and other small things that most soldiers would need regularly.

"The armory is there to the right," Alicia pointed to the caged-in area, "And the PX is to the left." Shyvana gave her a quizzical look at she she pointed to the small stall.

"What is a pee-ex?" Shyvana asked, her brow creasing ever so slightly.

"Oh, well PX is short for Post Exchange, it's like a trading post or shop kind of thingy." Alicia wore a thoughtful expression as her voice trailed off with her explanation of the PX. It quickly corrupted into an embarrassed grin as she giggled at herself and then composed herself, letting the smile remain on her lips. "The PX doubles as the quartermaster's post as well. If you need any equipment or anything like that, you can come and see me there or in my quarters and I'll get you set." Shyvana nodded as she continued to look around. A large fire pit was set into the ground at the center of the common area, and a large fire crackled within. A soldier in heavy Demacian armor leaned on a chair next to the fire, holding a piece of meat on a long stick out over the flames, the smell of roasting meat reminding Shyvana of just how hungry she was. Alicia pointed down past the fire place towards a long hallway. "The dormitories are that way, both male and female, and a few other places including the dining hall, the showers and such." They stepped up to another man who was sitting behind the fire, a frown upon his face as he watched the two women approach. Alicia snapped to attention and saluted. He waited, looking at Shyvana with a dark frown, as if he was waiting for something. Junes glanced over at Shyvana and then leaned in. "You need to salute!" She whispered.

"Oh, uh..." Shyvana looked at how June saluted and then looked at her hand. She straightened up and lifted her hand to her brow, touching it and then holding it.

"At ease." The LT growled, shaking his head as Shyvana dropped the salute and then shifted from foot to foot. "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to salute, boot?"

"I... well, no." Shyvana said, frowning. Vorscham's frown darkened again as he stood up and clasped his hands at the small of his back.

"Name and rank, boot!" He growled, glaring at her. Shyvana looked back at him with defiance blazing in her eyes, but she also knew that making enemies now wouldn't serve her any purpose.

"Shyvana." She said, a frown settling over her face, mirroring the LT displeasure. "I don't have a rank as far as I know." The LT's brow shot up and then a look of recognition seemed to pass over his face.

"What the-... Oh right." Vorscham sneered, shaking his head. Long brown hair bounced around his face, parted along the center, several long strands drifting into his face. He brushed them free of his . "I heard about you. The prince's play thing? The one who tore up the palace veranda. Such a pity all that attention was wasted on the likes of you."

"I dare you to say that again..." Shyvana seethed.

"What you gonna do, boot?" Vorscham said with a cruel grin. "Hit me? Do it and I'll see you busted all the way down to a penal battalion." He glared at her fiercely, fire burning in his golden eyes. "To me, you're nothing but trash right now. Until you earn your place in this unit, you don't get to be anything more than the lowest of the low."

"Lieutenant..." Alicia said, frowning. She looked at Shyvana and then took a half step back when heat began to pour off her body. "Miss Shyvana, uh, lets everybody calm down a little bit." Alicia wore a nervous smile as she tried to placate everyone.

"Stow it, Gunny." Vorscham growled. "If this little chickadee thinks she's got the guts it takes to make it in this unit, I think I might spill them on the floor just to see them for myself. We don't have room for twerps, slackers and people who think they're special, no matter how connected they are." Shyvana bared her teeth at him, her temper still rising.

"How about I rip that rank patch off your fucking shoulder and shove it down your throat?" Shyvana growled.

"Is that a challenge?" A smile slipped onto Vorscham's lips. "Good. Follow me." He turned on his heel and started to limp towards deeper into the barracks, leaving Shyvana with a surprised look on her face.

Alicia stepped in front of Vorscham and held her arms out wide. "Lieutenant, you shouldn't do that, the Major told us not-..."

"I thought I told you to stow it, Gunny?" Vorscham growled as he stopped before Alicia, looking down at the non-commissioned officer. "I don't give a flying fuck what Major Seymour has to say. That paper pushing cunt can tell me how to run my platoon when he gets up off his ass and learns to run his fucking company." He glared molten daggers and watched as Alicia tried to match his intensity, backing away and averting her eyes. Vorscham sigh as he let a moment of weakness pass over his face before his expression hardened impossibly fast and he turned back to the hallways behind him. "Now. Shyvana, follow me."

"Uh..." Shyvana wore a look of shock on her face as she glanced back and forth between Vorscham and Alicia.

"Wipe that off your face, you look stupid." Vorscham growled, looking back at her over his shoulder. "And the correct answer is 'Yes, sir.' not 'uh'." He fit her with a glare that caused Shyvana's throat to go dry.

"Yes sir." She said coldly after a few moments.

"Good." Vorscham nodded, though his frown remained hard. "Follow me. Gunny, go fetch Doc Burton and tell him to meet us in the training yard."

"Yes sir." Alicia said, shaking her head. She tried to give Shyvana a reassuring smile though the sadness remained in her eyes. Shyvana was confused and while she wanted to say something to the woman who had been so kind to her, she didn't want to offer anything up out of fear of Vorscham's reprimand. She fell in behind Vorscham, trying to avoid Alicia's eyes as they disappeared into the hallway that lead into the barracks.

The surface of the training quad had long ago been ground down to nothing but dirt. Grass tried to cling to the rough turf, but much of it had long ago been worn away by boots from sparring and fighting. Tall wooden poles littered the area, some for sword swinging practice, others for exercise, several close together with a metal bar spanning between them. High stone walls surrounded it on all sides, and though there wasn't a massive amount of space, it was well used as men and women moved about the area, sword ringing as men sparred, and the grunt and heavy effort of calisthenics being carried out.

"Welcome to the training field." Lieutenant Vorscham said, gesturing to the area. "Many generations of Demacian Palace Guardsmen have been trained here, and that leave the question I have for you, Chickadee." Vorscham smiled. "Do you think you have what it takes?"

Shyvana frowned at him as he gestured to a large ring with a short wooden wall around the edges. It was in the dead center of the training area, with the Barracks surrounding them on all sides. Windows reached up several stories on all sides, and though there were open hallways along the edges of the quad as soldiers strolled too and fro. Though the area was very open, she couldn't help but feel trapped. She turned back to Vorscham who stood waiting for an answer.

"The blood of my father runs strong in my veins." She said, trying to keep her nerves out of her voice. "But I will see to it personally that the enemies of Demacia will fall. I strive to serve Prince Jarvan to the fullest of my capacity, and you and anyone else will not stand in the way of me and my goals."

"Noble and patriotic." Vorscham said, nodding sagely. He glared at her, his golden eyes glimmering in the sun light. Brown hair fell around his face, almost to his shoulders, and though he did what he could to conceal it, Shyvana could see he walked with a noticeable limp. She could see the very edge of a bad scar along the edge of his face. She met his gaze again and watched as his even glare turned to a frown. "Do you believe that though, do you know what it means to be a true Demacian?"

Shyvana worked her jaw, but stared at the ground. Jarvan had told her she was deserving and showed the Demacian spirit, but he had never told her what that was. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again, meeting Vorscham's gaze openly. She shook her head slightly and set her jaw, rocking from foot to foot. "I do not know, honestly." Shyvana said, trying to keep the hesitation from showing weakness in her voice. "But I know that this is what I want—what I _must_—do for myself."

"Focused resolve, very good." Vorscham mused, gesturing to the ring. "But are you capable of fighting another Demacian?"

"If I must, I will." Shyvana said after a moment. "If you wish to judge my strength for yourself, then so be it."

"I won't be simply testing your strength, Chickadee." Vorscham said with a grin that sent shivers down Shyvana's spine. "Oh, far from it. This fight will test your resolve, your will, your spirit and your mind. You may have surprised Captain Crownguard with your little trick, but I won't be so easily fooled."

"I don't need my dragon form to defeat the likes of you." Shyvana sniffed, frowning as Vorscham wore a look of mock surprise.

"What big words from such a small girl." Vorscham said, chuckling. "Perhaps you'd like to put your money where your mouth is and show me some of that fight, eh?" Vorscham stepped over the low wall marking off the ring and gestured for her to step in as well. Shyvana looked hesitant, but she followed him, stepping into the ring and watching as soldiers dropped what they were doing, congregating around them and watching with interest. She could hear the chatter from all around her like a cage, rumors already circulating about her. Whispers about the _'beast girl'_, the _'prince's pet'_, the _'monster'_ and the _'gold digger_' flew freely from the mouths of the Demacians who watched, and while Shyvana knew this wouldn't be fun, she could feel how everyone had already put up a barrier, walling her off and segregating her out.

_I'm not another Demacian to them... I'm simply an oddity to watch or to ogle. _

"I'm ready when you are." Shyvana said quietly, letting the world around her fade out, focusing on the challenge that lay before her.

"Draw your weapon." Vorscham ordered as he accepted a lance from another soldier. He lifted the massive bladed weapon, similar to Jarvan's lance and pointed it at Shyvana. She frowned but nodded, pulling the heavy steel gauntlets from beneath her cloak She seated her gauntlets in the palms of her hands and used her teeth to tug the leather straps taut around her wrist. Vorscham glanced at the weapons and then back to her. "You don't want a real weapon?" Vorscham said with a smirk. He spun the lance above his head in a showy flourish, before planting the blade into the dirt in front of him.

"I don't need a weapon to deal with the likes of you." Shyvana growled.

"Bring it on, Chickadee." Vorscham said with a snort.

"What's with that name, anyways?" Shyvana said with a frown as she settled into a fighting stance. She held both gauntlets in front of her face in what was approximately a boxing stance.

"It's a simple winter birdy that's known for using existing nests for itself... just like you." His face turned dark. "Sucking up to prince like that..." He snorted, grinning cruelly. "I bet that's not all you sucked, too."

"I'm going to make you regret those words." Shyvana growled as color flooded her cheeks.

"Make me regret them." Vorscham said with a wicked grin as he held his lance in front of his body, keeping Shyvana at distance as he began to pace. Though his steps were uneven, the limp was almost completely gone as he crept about, crab stepping. Shyvana began to match his pacing in the opposite direction, not letting him steer her backwards into a corner where his long reach would have her pinned against the corner. "Show me the power you so brazenly flaunt." Shyvana snarled, letting her long, pointed fangs show, and she watched with satisfaction as some of the men took a surprised step backwards. She looked back to Vorscham, expecting a similar reaction, but he only watched her with a bit of amusement and an even glare.

Alicia approached with a man with gray hair and a bushy silver shot black beard in tow, running the last few meters as she approached, leaning heavily on the railing and frowning. She bit back a shout of protest, leaning back to stand squarely on her feet. "Sarge, I really think this is a bad idea..."

"I won't hurt him too much, June..." Shyvana said, starting to pace in towards him.

"I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about you!" Alicia said, her face almost manic.

Shyvana glared at the woman and watched as Alicia shrank back, fear in her eyes. Shyvana growled in disgust, turning all of her attention back to Vorscham. She closed the gap slowly, waiting for an explosive thrust to come from him, but he merely shifted stances, bringing his lance up in a defensive pose Shyvana had never seen. He held the long barrel of the lance up and over his shoulder, one arm back for leverage and one arm forward for strength, the blade descending towards the ground at a shallow angle.

_He can only swing so far to the right with his arms like that. _ Shyvana started to move forward. _A blow to the blade will easily rip his lance from his grasp!_

Shyvana charged in at Vorscham, flames cloaking her legs as she took off with a rapid burst of speed. She watched his face with pleasure as a moment of surprise flashed through his eyes as she closed the gap rapidly. She brought one of the steel gauntlets up and started to slap the lance aside. Sparks showered the ground as the length of the lance streaked across the dragon's head gauntlet with a scream of tearing metal. Shyvana watched his arm get stretched over his chest and while she expected worry or despair from his expression, he still simply looked at her without anything but the slightest hint of amusement.

Shyvana felt the lance get pushed back at her, the strength he was able to exert on it enough to send her toppling to the ground. She tucked and tried to roll to safety but she felt the heavy crack of the butt of his lance striking her right leg. She clenched her teeth as she finally ended up face down on the ground, grasping her leg in pain. She pushed her self up and pulled herself to her feet, pain contorting her face as her leg nearly fell out from under her.

"Your ingenuity is commendable." Vorscham said, settling into his defensive stance again. "You analyzed my defensive stance and went in for the proper blow, however you underestimated me and you paid for that. You let me deceive you with my appearance and you thought yourself stronger than me." He started to pace around her, looking for an opening this time. "You can't let yourself be deceived like that or you'll pay with your life, not just a charlie horse." Shyvana tried to match him, but she staggered when she tried to take a step, limping heavily, almost having to drag her leg along the ground. "Besides you make up for a lack of fighting prowess with raw aggression. You risk your life to end the battle quickly."

"So what if I do?" Shyvana snarled, trying to keep the pain from her face as she limped about, struggling to keep him from herding her towards the wall again.

"You're only going to hurt yourself like that." Vorscham said, pushing forward. He started to thrust in towards her, but Shyvana snarled and grappled the end of his lance when he went into to jab at her. Shyvana heaved the lance to the side, drawing him in closer. She wore a mask of anger and snarled to hide the scream as she launched herself forward, her leg threatening to roll and collapse. She threw a fire cloaked fist, letting it fly towards Vorscham's face. Vorscham ducked his shoulder and brought his head forward, letting the blow ride up his shoulder armor. He slammed her chest with his shoulder with a hollow thud and then brought his lance up in a single motion. As Shyvana started to topple backwards, he brought the lance up and back over his shoulder in a circular motion, sweeping up and across his body, catching Shyvana in the arm. The steel plate on her shoulder cracked and blood began to pour from a deep gasp that ran from the crook of her arm up to her collar bone. The tip swiped her brow as blood poured down across her face. Shyvana spun with the force of the blow and then hit the ground, much harder this time, her shattered shoulder pauldron bouncing across the ground and clattering to a halt.

"That's enough Lieutenant." Alicia stepped into the ring and in front of Shyvana, her arms outstretched as Vorscham stepped forward. "She's down for the count." Alicia gasped and looked over her shoulder as Shyvana grasped the hem of her cloak, starting to haul herself up.

"Not... yet..." Shyvana gasped for breath as she pushed herself up to her feet. Blood poured freely from her shoulder and she tried to wipe the blood from her face. She stood stood crookedly, swaying from side to side as her chest heaved with effort and blood dripped to the ground in a puddle beneath her.

Alicia took a half step away and looked back to Shyvana, surprise clear on her face. "But miss Shy-..."

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Shyvana roared, golden flames sparkling in her eyes and dancing along the ground as she settled into a fighting stance.

"But I..." Alicia stammered, taking another step away from Shyvana.

"You think I want your pity just because I'm different?" Shyvana said with a little less venom in her voice. "Because I'm some sort of freak?"

"No... I..." Alicia said, tears now welling in her eyes. "I just..."

"I don't care! Think anything you want, I'm used to it!" Shyvana snarled at Alicia and then pushed past her, smearing the woman's chest plate with blood from her arm. "I refuse to lose! I REFUSE!" Flames boiled around her, heat pouring off of her body.

"_She's a monster..." "Demon..." "Freak..."_ Shyvana heard the murmurs in the crowd but she didn't care, Her sights were firmly set on Vorscham now.

"I have long learned to feel no remorse towards the death of humans..." Shyvana growled. "You view me as nothing more than the dirt on which you step. My entire life I have lived in fear of humans and dragons alike, as I am neither one nor the other. If you think you're going to deny me my place here..." Shyvana was growing paler, as blood still poured from her shoulder. "I will ensure you get a glimpse into the belly of the beast."

"You're so weak now it wouldn't even be a challenge to put you down." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "You've got guts and strength, I'll give you that. If you keep this up though, I'll have to spill them all over the floor, and then we'd have to clean them up. What a pity, little chickadee." Vorscham shrugged. "I'd feel bad for doing that to the prince's play thing-ah-... pardon, his supposed new _personal_ _guard._... but you can't even beat one lowly lieutenant." Disgust flooded his voice. "If you can't even take care of yourself, how the hell do you think you're going to protect him?"

"I will end you!" Shyvana practically screamed as she pushed herself forwards, racing towards Vorscham leaving a trail of blood in her wake. He looked at her with pity in his eyes as he stepped into her charge and to the side. He brought his arm up and then brought his elbow down on the back of her neck, hard.

Shyvana hit the ground and slid to a halt in a heap.

"Lieutenant?" June slid forward and dropped to Shyvana's side, a worried look on her face.

"She's alive." Vorscham growled, shaking his head. "Just knocked out before she could do any more damage to herself." He worked his wrist about as the men around the open training area simply watched in shock, many of them repeatedly glancing back and forth between Vorscham and the injured woman who lay upon the ground.

"Sir?" June, stared up at him with tears welling in her eyes.

"Doc Burton, get her patched up and then get her fed. Alicia, have her assigned to a berth and get her fully geared up." Vorscham turned.

"Uh, yes sir." Doc Burton said with a frown, turning a waving a couple of soldiers forward to help him with a stretcher. He started to move into the ring but Alicia stomped her foot and clenched her fists, her body quivering in anger.

"What was the point of this!?" Alicia practically screamed, "Why... why would you do something so horrid to her..."

"She needed to learn a lesson." Vorscham said quietly, looking back over his shoulder. "This isn't somewhere she can simply beat her way through life. She needs to learn to control herself; her emotions, her actions, her fighting, everything. She's extremely strong, but she's reckless and wild. Before she can become a Demacian Guardsman, she must become a Demacian."

"Then what purpose did it serve to alienate her like this?" Alicia said, waving at the medical team who carried a stretched between them, assisting Doc Burton. "This wasn't training, Proudmast, this was abuse, pure and simple."

"She learned that she isn't invincible today." Vorscham said with a growl. "And don't call me by my first name." He ran a hand through his hair, revealing a massive scar that covered half of his face, the majority of his ear completely sheered away. "Sometimes... sometimes you have to break a man before you can build a soldier. I had hopes that she would be different because Valin seemed to trust her so intimately, but I guess she's just like the rest."

"Wait, Isaacs trusted him? How do you know that?" Surprise was clear on Alicia's face, as the anger drained from her face and voice.

"I talked to Colonel Jerome about the scouting reports that his men reported to the king." Vorscham handed the lance off to a soldier as he limped towards the wall, easing down and grimacing in pain. "She and Isaacs were pretty close until he died." Vorscham glared at the ground, as Alicia shook her head and looked back at Vorscham, frowning.

"Isaacs would have never treated someone like this, and you know that!" Alicia said, watching as Shyvana got carried away by the medics. She wore a look of concern on her face as the medics disappeared inside the barracks, Doc Burton following them inside.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Valin Isaacs. I'm not a saint. I can't do what he did." Vorscham stared at the ground, his face hardening into a grief stricken mask. He turned away, lifting his legs over the low wall and then pushed himself to his feet. He took a deep breath, letting his back face Alicia as he ran a hand over his head. "This is the only way I know how, June."

"Proudmast..." Alicia said, softly. She started to realize that while he may have come off as a complete jerk and a bastard, he really did have the best of intentions.

"I thought I told you not to call me that." He looked up and then turned to the soldiers who were still milling about. Many of them had probably come to watch Vorscham get his ass kicked, but they stood in awe now, having watched the Lieutenant easily take down the beast that had felled the Might of Demacia. "Get back to your work, soldiers!" He shouted angrily. "You've got your duties, now get them done or we'll spend all of tomorrow running laps around the city walls!" Men scampered left and right, scattering like chickens with their heads cut off. When everyone had left, Vorscham paused, looking back at the rapidly drying blood on the in the dirt arena. "Hey Juniper..."

"Sir?" Alicia said, looking back to him. He still stood facing away from her.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Shyvana that Isaacs and I used to go way back, alright?" Vorscham's shoulders sunk as he kneeled down with some effort, pressing his fingers into a sticky patch of splattered red blood. "I want her to hate me while she trains. If she's angry at me and she wants to beat the crap out of me she'll work harder and strive to do so. It'll keep her mind in the right place."

"I..." Alicia sighed as her face softened and she nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yes sir."

"Thanks, June." Vorscham said, nodding. "Make sure she gets cleaned up and bandaged properly. Jarvan would kick my ass if he knew what I was doing." Vorscham said, chuckling softly.

"Another secret you want kept from her for now?" June said, smiling.

"Yeah..." Vorscham looked down at the ground and shook his head. "This less she knows about me, the less she'll feel sorry for me."

"Yes sir." Alicia said, saluting. She spun and then jogged off to catch up with the medics, leaving Vorscham alone on the bare patch of dirt that he had trained on himself, years ago. Vorscham pushed himself to his feet and shook his head, wiping the blood from his fingers onto his trousers.

_Better get this cleaned up and back to work before the Major gets back._

Shyvana groaned as she rolled over and tried to sit up, her head swimming. She ran and hand over her face, sweat dripping down her nose and locks of red hair pasted to her face. She started to wipe them free of her face but she winced, falling back onto the bed when her shoulder screamed in pain.

"Careful now, you're still injured." A soft female voice said, gently pushing her back onto the bed. "You shouldn't try to use your arm for now. Doc Burton says it needs to heal. Besides, till we can drop your fever you need to stay in bed."

Shyvana felt something cool brush over her forehead as the warm embrace of a thick blanket and a plush pillow swallowed her up. "Wha-... Quinn?" Shyvana looked for the tracker and medic who had saved her and Jarvan several times, hoping to see a familiar face, but the icy white hair and warm red eyes of Juniper faded into view. She smiled warmly at Shyvana, dipping a soft cloth into a basin of water and then wrung it out, handing it to Shyvana.

"Here, you can wipe your face." June sat back on the chair next to Shyvana's bed as Shyvana accepted the cloth with her good arm and then struggled to sit up. Her weak arm flailed for a moment, held back by a sling and bandages covering her left shoulder. Shyvana grunted as she wormed her way into a rough sitting position before she hung her head, breathing a bit deeper than she should have with the effort she had just exerted.

"June? Where am I?" Shyvana said, looking around the room at the small quarters. They were furnished well, with a small dresser, tall bookshelf, a desk with a chair that Alicia was sitting on, a wardrobe and then the bed Shyvana lay on. There was also a small bed-side table that the basin sat on, a lamp perched on the corner. Shyvana ran the cloth over her face and then her neck, a bit of red blotting the cloth as she pulled it away. She ran her fingers over her brow and felt soft bandages had been wrapped around her head. She groaned a bit, trying to blink away the wooziness she still felt.

"This is your assigned dormitory." Alicia said, standing up. She set her hands on the wardrobe, pulling it open and gesturing to the inside of the drawers. "I went ahead and sized you up and appropriated you a full set of fatigues, a dress uniform, and various other things you'll need." She paused a moment thinking. "You'll need to get your dress uniform tailored to fit, but all in due time. Oh, and we'll get you fitted for armor as well, but for now you can use the training armor we have available."

"Oh... uh, okay." Shyvana said, looking down at her hands as she gripped the edge of the blanket.

"We gave you an officers quarters because that's all we had, so I hope you don't mind being in your own room." Alicia said, smiling. Shyvana looked up at her and then shrugged, still staring down at her hands. "Give me a holler if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thanks." Shyvana said quietly.

"Of course." Alicia said, still smiling happily. She turned to leave.

"Um..." Shyvana said softly, her face hidden by her long red locks.

"Hmm?" June paused in the doorway, looking back at the young woman, her arm in a sling, bandages wrapped over her shoulder and around her head.

"I... June, uh..." Shyvana shook her head, still staring at the blanket. She glanced up at the icy haired officer. "I wanted to apologize for what I said before. I didn't really mean it. I was just..."

"It's fine." Alicia wandered back into the room and settled down onto the chair, crossing her legs and crossing her arms over her chest. "We all get carried away sometimes and say things we don't mean." She shrugged and looked back at Shyvana. "And while Vorscham may be an ass, he means well. He just doesn't really know any better. He gets his hardheadedness from a friend of his back during his academy days. He never really grew out of his bad habits either, he still uses fights as the basis for every lesson ever." She shrugged and sighed, chuckling softly.

"I.. I figured he was goading me on." Shyvana said clenching her fists. "I just... I..."

"You've never had anyone stand up to you like that before, right?" Alicia said with a grin.

"I got defeated like that once before." Shyvana said, a smile playing over her face. "My father had just been killed and I was distraught, lashing out blindly. He found me like that and took pity on me. He took all of his armor off and then took me down like he was simply putting on a training exercise."

"He took his armor off before he took you down?" Alicia said, raising an eyebrow. "Takes guts to do something like that I bet."

"Yeah well, Prince Jarvan is about as hardheaded as they come." Shyvana said, laughing softly. She shook her head and then sighed after a moment. She looked back to Alicia who smiled sweetly at her and then Shyvana blushed and then glanced down at the bed. "Oh I didn't mean to get sentimental on you June, I just... I haven't seen him in a few days and I'm feeling kinda lonely."

"It's fine." Alicia said, shaking her head, wiping the surprised look of off her face. "I had forgotten that you two were an, er, well an item."

"Well, its not really..." Shyvana frowned, shaking her head. "I mean..." She blushed furiously and then glared down at the blanket again, wrenching it about viciously as she poked at the blanket, drawing circles on the fabric as waves of heat rose off of the top of her head. "I suppose we..."

"I mean, you've done it, right?" Alicia said, grinning slyly. Shyvana looked up at her, her mouth hanging open. "Bagged the prince eh, that's hot." Shyvana's face turned beet red as she ripped the sheet almost in two, steam now pouring from her ears.

"I-I-I-I..." Shyvana stammered. "I... But I..."

"I won't judge you for it." Alicia said, laughing at Shyvana's embarrassment. "Just get better so we can get back to training." She stood up and slid the chair back under the desk. "Reveille is tomorrow at six and PT is at six-fifteen. After that you've got time to bathe and clean yourself up for mess at seven-thirty. Martial exercises follow, starting at eight until lunch at twelve-thirty. Classes in the afternoon starting at one and until you're released. You have that time until dinner at six to yourself, as well as the rest of the evening for studying or practicing your martial skills. Easy enough, right?"

"Studying?" Shyvana said, blinking. "Studying what?"

"History, Demacian education and weapons theory among other things." Alicia shrugged, leaning against the door frame. "It changes from person to person though. For you, it might concern target protection, advanced combat tactics, I can't really say."

"I see." Shyvana said sighing.

"Just rest up." Alicia chuckled. "You'll be busy starting tomorrow. Better heal up while you can, I doubt Vorscham will give you a break because of that arm."

"Oh this?" Shyvana said, raising her arm out of the sling.

"Easy now..." Alicia said, stepping forward. "Weren't you still in pain?"

"It's a bit sore, yeah." Shyvana said, carefully working her arm around. She struggled to unclip the bandages but finally managed to get it unclasped. She unwrapped it and showed the long pink scar that ran along her shoulder to Alicia. She unwrapped her head as well, gently running her face over the small gap in her brow where a pink scar still marred her face. "I've always healed pretty quickly though, The gash was long but it wasn't too deep." Shyvana paused shrugging with some effort. She gently touched her brow and winced a bit as she did. "It might be a day or two till I'm back to full strength, but it's workable."

"That's amazing..." Alicia said breathlessly, looking at the scars. "And the fever?"

"Oh, well... I don't think I had one." Shyvana said, frowning. She held a hand to her forehead. "Nope, not a bit."

"But... you were burning up..." June said, blinking lamely.

"Oh well, my body temperature is higher than normal." Shyvana said, pulling her feet from the bed and standing up. "I mean... I'm not human. Not fully at least."

"I... I guess so." Alicia shook her head, smiling. "I know we kinda got off to a rough start but how about it, friends?" She held out her hand, taking Shyvana by surprise.

"I..." Shyvana frowned, looking down at her own hand but nodded, smiling. "Sure." She took Alicia's hand and shook it once. "Now, where can I get something to eat." Shyvana said, pulling a pair of pants from the drawer and sliding them on. She tugged on fatigue tunic as well, matching what June was wearing. "I'm starved."

Alicia laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Come on," She said, waving Shyvana towards the door. "I'll see if I can't scrounge something for you to eat."


	8. Chapter 7: Subordinates

"So what ever happened to that administrative assistant we were supposed to get?" Delancey kicked back in her chair, groaning as she stretched her arms above her head. "All these tomes and the endless stacks of files are starting to get on my nerves."

"What'd I tell you, Delancey?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow as he lowered the file he was reading to the large meeting table in front of him.

"I'm not complaining sir." Delancey said with a surprisingly cheerful grin. "I just want some more help." She shrugged and brushed blue locks of hair from her face. "Someone who actually knows what they're doing with all this paperwork. Someone who has a remote clue about all these papers_."_

"I have to agree sir." Lee said warily, scrubbing his hands over his face as he slumped back in his chair. He slammed the lid of the tome he had been browsing and dropped it into a pile next to his seat that was easily as tall as the table. "All of these tomes and files have almost nothing to do with Swain. It's as if they sent us the entirety of the recorded history of Noxus." He paused and looked across the room where large boxes of tomes and paper files were stacked half way to the ceiling. "I'm pretty sure they did send up the entire recorded history of Noxian Demacian relations."

"I believe the archive officer said it was only the last seventy years to be exact." Delancey chirped, drawing dirty glares from both Lee and Jarvan. She gave them a glowing smile, and Lee simply shook his head and pulled another tome from the stack he was slowly working through.

"I'd help but I'm currently having to brush up on the history of Kalamanda and geology of all things." Jarvan said, the frustration seeping into his voice as he held up a geology book and pulled out a report regarding Kalamanda's recent mineral discoveries. He glanced at the cover of the report and sighed heavily.

"Just think though, sir." Delancey said smiling. "It may be a bit _rocky_ now, but once you've got the gist of it, It'll be easy." She looked like she was struggling to keep herself from laughing.

"You're so chipper it's almost sickening." Jarvan groaned, watching as her smile grew wider.

"I've got some more geology jokes if you want, sir." Delancey said putting a finger to her chin as if she was thinking about something really hard. "Just give me a minute, I'll dig some up." That got a groan from Lee. "I mean, it's your fault our duty eroded to this, right?" She wore a big goofy grin as if she expected everyone to burst out laughing. Jarvan set the paper he was reading down in front of him, laced his fingers together in front of him and looked up at Delancey who still wore a massive, cheesy grin on her face.

"Delancey, I will have you hung up on the flag pole in the courtyard by your toes and let you see if you can wisecrack yourself down if you'd like to keep this up." Jarvan said evenly. She only grinned wider.

"Aww, you're making me blush." She teased, batting her eyes and glancing away in a mockingly coy manner. Lee snorted a bit of laughter and Jarvan couldn't help but smile.

"Enough joking though, we need to get through this before tomorrow." Jarvan said, shaking his head and sighing.

"Yes sir." Delancey said, a bit deflated, but the smile remaining on her face as she pulled a new tome from her pile and cracked it open.

Jarvan's smile quickly died as he dug through a thick stack of file folders, pieces of parchment sticking out at every angle, drawings and scraps of parchment strewn about everywhere. He finally found what he was looking for in the form of his report regarding the final two months of his excursion beyond the rift and his return there after. He flipped through the pages of parchment, his scrawling black handwriting lining page after page. He paused on page seven, and started reading. ..._and when confronted, the dragon confessed he had been coerced into harassing Noxus. His actions were delayed by the immense injuries inflicted by myself and my companions, delaying the attack long enough for us to hunt him down. It was in this last confrontation that Valin Isaacs, my lieutenant, fell. He is buried in an unmarked grave in the Noxian wilderness just south of the Ironspike Mountains, but should be treated with full military honors..._ Jarvan felt a heavy weight on his back as he read his words, pausing to take a deep breath and clear his mind. The report detailed the deaths of all of his men, even those who hadn't died at the very end of the two year journey the report was supposed to cover.

_Argyle, Reynolds, Vanneth, Halcyon, Marntin, Jean, Tron, Orion, Laryn and Shore and Valin Isaacs... _The weight on Jarvan's shoulder seemed to grown infinitely heavier as the memories of the men and women of Exemplar company seemed to wash over him like a lead wave. _There are only two survivors of the original Exemplar company now. Forsythe and myself. The only unit I've ever commanded has a ninety-nine percent mortality rate. I'm not a commander, I'm a butcher. I led my men to the slaughter. _Jarvan closed his eyes and sat back heavily, trying to let his guilty conscious ebb a bit, though the wound had surfaced again, as it did sometimes. Jarvan had returned home and received a hero's welcome, and though he loved his country, he sometimes felt as if he didn't belong amid the fanfare. Most of his friends had never returned to Demacia, and the only solace Jarvan could find at times was amid the empty graves that were awarded so-called heroes who died in battle.

_War is a cruel existence, but for me, this peace is almost worse. _Jarvan slumped just a bit lower in his chair breathing deeply. Lonely nights and long days dealing with politicians and soldiers he didn't know were starting to wear on him and Jarvan could feel it. _If this keeps up much longer, I think I might go crazy. I miss the open sky and the freedom of Valoran right now. _Jarvan frowned a bit and clenched his fists, a pang of fear at having to sleep alone striking deep in his heart. _I don't know if I can take too many more nights alone..._

"Sir?" Jarvan opened his eyes to black breakers on a sea of tan parchment. He massaged his eyes for a moment and sat up, tearing his eyes from the messy black handwriting that and looked up to see Delancey standing in the doorway that led into the small common area of Jarvan's suite of rooms. She wore a worried look and the hesitation told Jarvan that his subordinate was worried about him. "Miss Halsington has brought us some coffee and sandwiches." Jarvan blinked a few times and then rubbed his eyes, glancing to the clock that was high above his desk. He groaned and nodded.

"Tell Noel to bring them on in." Jarvan shook his head, trying to banish the weariness he felt. It had taken him a few moments to connect Noel's first and last name together. He had always known Noel Halsington as simply 'Noel' ever since he had been a young boy. "I hadn't even realized it had gotten so late in the day." He pushed himself up to his feet and stretched his back, yawning. After working through the entirety of the day before on brushing up on his knowledge about Kalamanda, Jarvan had worked through the morning with Councilor Crownguard and his staff as they had tried to sort through what exactly Swain had been involved in in his history with Noxus. During that meeting the archive officer that Delancey had talked to before apparently realized he had forgotten to send the second half of the record on Kalamanda. Jarvan had been working through today trying to finish up and the time had escaped him.

"So we still have a huge number of reports to sort through despite all of our work yesterday. What exactly happened in the meeting this morning?" Lee asked as he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. Jarvan glanced over at the olive complected officer, his short black hair ruffled against his mounting frustrations with all of the paperwork.

"While the councilor's staff had managed to identify several hundred actions and operations that Swain _could_ have had a hand in or was connected to, they had defaulted to me to decide what exactly Swain was involved in." Jarvan sighed, letting his shoulders sink heavily. "I'll be honest, everyone considers Swain to be my arch-nemesis as if we're constantly hunting each out and trying to take each other out over and over. Swain tried to kill me twice because I'm the heir to the Demacian throne... I don't know anything about him other than what reports have to say and what we know through rumor and hearsay."

"Sounds like no better time or reason to familiarize yourself then." Lee said, shrugging.

"Perhaps, but what exactly am I going to use short of talking to a Nox-..." Jarvan paused, a thoughtful frown on his face before he shook his head. "Anyways, the councilor had apparently expected me to be some sort of all seeing oracle. While I've had my few run ins with him, Swain is the tactical genius, not me. He out maneuvered me and killed my entire company off as if it were nothing but a milk run." Jarvan said through gritted teeth as he leaned on the back of his chair. The plush blue chair creaked a bit as Jarvan rested more weight on it, but it settled quickly. Jarvan shrugged. "I took my report of my actions with me, but he didn't seem interested in anything but the parts with Swain. He wants me to write up an actual analysis of Swain's martial tactics from my point of view for his people to analyze. He also wanted me to sort through all of these reports to determine the ones most likely to have been perpetrated by Swain. Which leads us to where we are now."

"More paperwork, sir?" Lee let the flickering of a smile pass over his normally placid face. Jarvan shook his head in exasperation and let his head hang as he sighed deeply.

"Yeah, more bloody paperwork to sort through." Jarvan groaned. "I swear to god, if I have to look though and more file folders I might just drown myself in this sea of paper."

"I hear you, sir." Lee said, looking back at the stack of tomes he had beside him, one of each side. "Perhaps taking a break from the Kalamanda reports will break the monotony?" He gestured to the stack of books that were sitting off to the side of the table that Jarvan and his staff hadn't even touched yet.

"Yeah, maybe." Jarvan said tiredly. He watched as Lee picked a tome off of the shorter pile next to him and cracked it open in front of him, dipping back into his readings. _He has no trouble simply tuning out the rest of the world when he has work to do._ Jarvan watched Lee for a moment to see if the soldier would show any further signs of frustration, but the man's eyes simply danced over page after page of written word. _I suppose that's a mage for you, they're as much at home amid the tomes as they are on the battlefield._

"This way, ladies, the Prince is just through here." Delancey's voice carried through the outer room, and though Jarvan could hear the trundling of a cart being pushed, he could also pick out three sets of clicking of heals. He could separate the subtle clank of Delancey's armored grieves on the carpeted stone, but there were also two pairs of clicking heels striking the stone as they passed from rug to rug.

_Who could that be, it's not just Noel..._ Jarvan frowned as he stood up and straightened out his tunic, realizing just how out of place he felt without his armor. _I hate this soft warfare—politics. It is no place for me._ He shifted uncomfortably as the feet approached.

Delancey came first, sweeping in the door and opening the second of the double doors to allow for the cart that Noel pushed to roll into the room. The tall maid had her usual uniform swaying around her, her clear blue eyes standing out against her pale skin, raven hair, and white and black uniform. She pushed a cart stacked with sandwiches, pastries, and a massive coffee pot poured steam at the very top. Behind her followed a petite young woman with wavy brown hair and emerald green eyes that sparkled in the dim light of the room. Jarvan felt something unsettling in his stomach as he looked at the woman, ice settling in his stomach as he met the fair skinned young woman's gaze.

_She looks just like..._ Jarvan stood up just a bit straighter and looked down at the short young lass. _It couldn't be..._

"Captain Lightshield, this is your new administrative assistant." Noel said, gesturing to the woman. "I found her wandering around the halls looking for your study." Noel wore a faint smile that spoke of her memories of having done the same for Jarvan many times before.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." The young woman said, bowing rather than saluting. "My name is Private-..."

"Valentine Isaacs." Jarvan said softly, the disbelief crossing over his face as he finished her sentence for her.

"I'm glad you remember me, sir." The woman said, blushing, a smile spreading over her face. Jarvan shook his head and let a sad smile cross his face. "It's been a long time since I last met you."

"You probably weren't much taller than my waist at that point though." Jarvan wore a crooked grin as he shook his head. "Has it really been so long?" She nodded. "You've grown up quite a bit; you're how old now, seventeen, eighteen?"

She blushed and smiled. "I'm flattered you remember. Eighteen as of last month. I was only seven or eight at the time when you visited with my father and brother, so many years ago."

"To think it's been ten years." Jarvan said, a sad look falling over his face as silence befell the room. "I meant to come and visit to give you my regards about your father and your brother. I was close to Isaacs and Shore. Ah, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"It's fine, sir." She said, her shoulders sinking as if a massive weight had slowly begun to descend upon her. The sparkle in her eyes seemed to dull, and she stared down at the ground, her hands clasped together in front of her. "I didn't really know my father all that well, and Shore was so many years older than I was. I remember them both from when I was little, but they were only home a few days a month for the few years leading up to their disappearance." She worked her hands nervously. "I remember Shore a little better because he would watch after me when mother and father would fight when we were little, but even then, he seems like such a distant memory now."

"I..." Jarvan's voice faded away as he sank down into his chair. _Isaacs had been like a second father to me, did he really neglect his own daughter? And fighting with his wife, they divorced peaceably... I thought._

"My parents separated shortly after I was born." She said, wringing her hands as she saw the confusion wash over Jarvan's face. "I mailed my father now and then, but a little over two years ago his letters became infrequent. My mother said he had gone away to do something important, but she never told me exactly what. I would receive letters from him occasionally, post marked from all over Valoran. He described beautiful places and tales of great creatures, but I don't know if my letters ever reached him when I wrote back. He always mentioned _the prince_, and when you returned without him, I feared for the worst." She wrung her hands in front of her, still staring at the ground. "When I had come of age last year, I enlisted to serve my three years of mandatory service in hopes of learning what had happened to him. I suppose I will never know, now."

"Valentine, your father and brother accompanied on a journey across Valoran. They died in battle with a dragon that nearly killed me as well.. and robbed me of all but one of my men." Jarvan gripped the arms of his chair, his hands shaking with a mix of rage and grief. "If you want to be angry as someone, you can be angry at me. I know I am whenever I remember your father and brother, they were good men. I asked them both to accompany me and it was the reason they ended up losing their lives. I am sorry." Jarvan closed his eyes shut and let his head fall forward. "I am truly, truly sorry."

Jarvan braced himself for the words of anger and hatred, but seconds passed without any words of reprisal. He felt soft warm hands press against his hand. He let his iron grip slacken on the arm of the chair as he opened his eyes. Valentine wore a sad smile as she pulled his hand into her own and opened his palm, spreading it and running her fingers along the inside of Jarvan's palm.

"You have rough hands." She said softly. She wore a sad but fond look on her face. "But they're strong... kind of how I imagine my father's hands to be."

"No, his hands were softer than mine." Jarvan said, shaking his head with a crooked grin. "He was caring and kind, always looking out for the men, be it with a dirty joke or a knock on the head." Jarvan chuckled, sinking in his seat a bit. "He was a great man, much better than I."

Valentine laughed, the sound like tinkling bone china. "My mom always said he was too busy with trying to raise the entire army to take care of her and I..." Her face fell as her voice trailed off, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"I suppose that was his greatest fault." Jarvan said softly. "The old bastard cared too much about all of his men. If you ever need anything, please, don't be afraid to ask me. I owe him a greater debt than I could ever repay." Jarvan smiled warmly at her. Jarvan offered her a silken handkerchief from the pocket inside the lapel of his uniform tunic.

"Could you tell me about him?" Valentine said, wiping away the tears with the handkerchief, blushing slightly. "Mother doesn't talk about him much."

"Sure." Jarvan said, chuckling.

Lee cleared his throat as he lifted a cup of coffee to his lips and continuing to look down at the tome he was browsing. Jarvan blinked a few times and then looked at Delancey, who wore a grin as she leaned on the back of her chair, munching on a half of a sandwich. Noel silently poured coffee for Jarvan, and slid a sandwich onto a plate for him, setting them both on the table next to him.

"Sorry." Jarvan said, shaking his head with an embarrassed grin. "I suppose it will have to wait for now. We're on a bit of a deadline so I'm going to have to ask you to jump right in."

"That's fine." Valentine smiled. "I requested this post for a reason. I'll do whatever you need of me, sir."

"Oh?" Jarvan said as he shuffled through a stack of papers, finally pulling out the report of his most recent actions, concerning Isaacs death and Shyvana. He quickly rearranged it into it's proper order and hesitated before handing it over to Valentine.

"Yes sir." She said nodding. "I saw your name come up through personnel and I put in for a transfer. It took a day to go through, but I was allowed to transfer out of the Demacian Command Office to your command."

"I see." Jarvan said, nodding. Lee glanced up from his readings at Jarvan who glanced away and sighed. "I'm going to need at least two additional copies of this report." He tapped the report several times and then looked back to the youngest Isaacs. "Read this. It's a bit graphic in places, but it'll at least tell you how he died.

"Yes, sir." Her fingers trembled as she accepted the report from Jarvan and glanced over it briefly. Jarvan watched, waiting for a reaction as she browsed the contents. She flipped through the report briefly and then her mouth opened as she blinked a few times. She closed the report. "I'll get right on it." Jarvan nodded as he gestured to a section of the desk that was mostly clear of the mess of books and papers. He picked up a file folder and started flipping through it and then frowned.

"I'm sorry we don't have more time for introductions, but we're pressed for time. There are quills and ink in the side desk, as well as parchment and anything else you may need. In the mean time, I have to sort through and familiarize myself with information for contingency plans based on history that apparently doesn't exist!" Jarvan frowned as he slammed the remnants of the stack of reports onto the table, sending papers flying around the room. "It's as if Swain didn't exist once upon a time. He's a virtual ghost up until he just pops up as a major in charge of a company of infantry. That doesn't just happen."

"We've still got quite a few records to go through, sir." Lee said before popping the corner of his sandwich into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and then washing it down with a sip of coffee. "It's entirely possible that we simply have not stumbled across the actual records we need yet." He tapped a painfully short stack of file folders and pushed them towards Jarvan. These are a few that I've found that actually have details that match his or mention him by name." He then tapped another pile that was only slightly taller. He frowned, letting a mix of confusion and anger mar his face. "These may have been his responsibility as well but the unit details of those involved don't match up with existing Noxian naming and designation parameters. It doesn't make any sense, as if someone has gone through and messed with all of the records." Jarvan could see the frustration mounting in his face as he opened a second report and held them next to each other, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two reports.

"What, you think someone tampered with the Demacian Archives?" Delancey said, looking up from a tome. "That's not possible"

"It's possible, but only high level military officials and staff within the archives actually have access to said records." He glowered, thinking. "Even then, detailed records are kept regarding anyone who accesses them. Prince Jarvan, I'm starting to get worried. What exactly is going on here?"

Jarvan hesitated, a frown crossing his face. _If someone really did edit the records, who can I trust? Katarina did say to trust no one... _He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Can I even trust her?_

"What does it matter, Lee?" Delancey said with a shrug. She sighed before turning back to Jarvan. "But I have to agree, sir. This is pretty damn weird."

"I know, I know..." Jarvan growled, shaking his long black hair out. "Someone might be working against us from the shadows, and even now I feel as though I'm only getting bogged down in paperwork to keep me busy while they dance around me laughing. This is just frustrating." Jarvan tossed a report onto the table and sent papers flying everywhere. The file folder itself crashed into his cup of coffee, spilling it over the table, and then it rolled off the edge and crashed to the ground. "Oh great..." He muttered, shaking his head. "Just fucking great."

"I have it, sire." Noel said softly, kneeling down and pulling a towel from her cart and beginning to wipe up the spilled coffee and shards of china.

"I understand you're frustrated, sir." Lee said tightly as he picked up a sheet of paper, dripping black with coffee and smeared ink. He sighed and shook his head, picking up a few tomes before the creeping trail of coffee had a chance to reach them. "Irreplaceable records now ruined. Fabulous." Lee growled, shaking his head. He turned to Jarvan and fit the prince with a molten glare. "Sometimes you simply need to deal with it, _sir_. You're a prince and a representative of the Demacian Government now. You have responsibilities you must attend to despite how it may seem."

"You're out of line, Lee." Delancey growled, a frown forming on her face.

"Am I?" Lee snapped back. "Am I really? Mages learn about responsibility early on when they're studying in the Academy. There are certain things you have to sacrifice when you have so much responsibility on your shoulders. The prince wouldn't be here now if he didn't understand that."

"You should learn your place!" Delancey snapped back.

"Why?" Lee growled. "Just because I'm not an indoctrinated sheep like you academy knuckledraggers doesn't mean I'm not above understanding a Demacian's proper sense of duty. I simply don't follow it blindly."

"That's enough, Lee." Jarvan said finally, a grim look on his face as he used a cloth that Noel had produced to wipe the table clean. "Thank you, Noel." She bowed as she accepted the clothe from him.

"What, you think I'm wrong too?" Lee said defensively. Jarvan turned to face him fully, silence descending upon the room. Delancey, Noel, and Valentine all watched with apprehension as Jarvan glared at the mage. His chest rose and fell heavily once I a silent sigh before he turned to the other occupants of the room.

"Ladies, do me a favor and give me a moment alone with Lee, please." Jarvan said, trying to not let menace enter his voice. He waited as Delancey glanced at him, and though he met her gaze briefly, he simply nodded. She wore a frown but gestured for Valentine and Noel to follow.

"This way, Miss Isaacs." Delancey paused, looking at Valentine.

"Please just call me Valentine." She said softly, her eyes flicking nervously back and forth between Lee and Jarvan. She stood and gave Jarvan a withering gaze as Delancey led her into the outer room of Jarvan's suite. Noel bowed as she followed behind them, bowing as she pulled the door closed behind herself.

"Now, while I was _going _to agree with your comment about responsibility, I'm more inclined to sock you in the jaw right now." Jarvan growled, standing with his legs spread shoulder width apart and his arms crossed over his chest. "I took my frustrations out on the file folder and spilled some coffee, big deal. And here I was thinking you were the more level headed of my bodyguards. If you have any actual reason to be so angry, I shall listen to any grievances you have. If your reasons are sound, I shall deal with them as I see fit. Or, if you dislike this posting, you can see yourself now and head down to the personnel office to put in your transfer papers."

Anger showed on Lee's face. "Oh and I bet Sergeant Delancey got this same conversation, too." He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "This is a military investigation, not a baby sitting service."

"Actually, yes, I did have a conversation with Delancey about this." Jarvan growled. "She didn't like the idea of all this paperwork anymore than I did, and I set her straight. Now, if you're done pitching a bitch fit like a five-year-old, and want to speak to me like a soldier would address his _superior officer_, I _MIGHT_ not bust you back down to private."

"Sir!" Lee snapped to attention, color draining from his face.

"Now." Jarvan said, sighing, stepping up towards Lee with a grimace on his face. "If you like this posting, and you have a legitimate complaint, I will listen to them."

"Sir, I have nothing to say, sir!" Lee barked.

"Oh?" Jarvan said, leaning back slightly, posting his fists on his hips. "And here I thought daycare was starting to bore you." Jarvan shook his head and sighed. "Look, Sergeant, I'll be straight with you. I can't figure you out. If you want to say something, just be out with it before I request a new escort so I don't have to deal with this. I don't want anything in the way of us working together, and right now I'm pretty sure something massive is ticking you off. I don't like that in my subordinates. Now out with it."

Lee glared at the wall behind Jarvan for several tense moments, his face an impenetrable mask. He glanced at Jarvan, his shoulders heaving as he sighed. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Do it." Jarvan growled, though his voice had lost a lot of its menace.

"Sir, I really don't think this sort of investigation is the place for romance or you suffering from outstanding issues with your late lieutenant's death." Lee took a deep breath and held it for a moment and then exhaled again. "I can't see any good coming from the fact that this young woman was able to get herself assigned to this post just like that, especially when she had an existing post within Military Command. That consists of so many military code violations I can't even begin to list them, and this stinks of foul play or traded favors, neither of which I appreciate." Lee clenched his fists, obviously hesitating before he went on. "I worked my ass off to get through the Demacian Arcane Academy while my parents languished to pay for books and living expenses, giving away what little they had to ensure I did. To see someone like her who is able to abuse the system gets under my skin."

"She's the daughter of a man who was greater than any man you or I could ever hope to be." Jarvan said, a frown marring his face. "If you have a legitimate security concern regarding the young woman, and I can see you really are concerned about this, I will allow you to look into these issues. However, it will have to wait until after the meeting regarding Kalamanda."

Lee's glare had softened a bit, but he still looked uncomfortable. "Yes, sir."

"Something else, sergeant?" Jarvan turned to where a fresh cup of coffee Noel had poured for him sat on the corner of the table. He picked it up and took a sip.

"Not really sir." Lee said.

"That doesn't sound convincing, Lee." Jarvan raised an eyebrow as he lowered the cup to the edge of the table. "Convince me."

"Sir, aside from my considerable security concerns regarding both the woman and the archive breaches I would like permission to follow up, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable of the level of intimacy you seem to share with the young woman. If you've going to start to develop some sort of relationship with her..."

"Just do me a favor and stop right there." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "She's more akin to a little sister than anything else. I knew her when she was a child, and her father was like an uncle to me than a lieutenant. Besides, I've got a..." He hesitated for a moment as if searching for the proper word. "...someone I'm courting already. If you have an issue with that though..."

Jarvan could read his mind piecing things together one by one, working steadily towards the end goal. "Oh right, you mean you and the dragoness..."

"Yup." Jarvan said, sighing. "If you have a problem with that, then we really might have an issue."

"No sir." He snapped back to attention, his face becoming a mask again. "Now that I understand the situation a bit better, I think I can work with this."

"And you don't have an issue with me and a half dragon being together?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow.

"You can't change who you love, sir." Lee said with a tone that told Jarvan there was something else at work. He raised his eyebrow, but shrugged.

"Well put." Jarvan shook his head as he finished off his coffee. "Now, I'll let you run your investigation if it'll convince you that there is nothing to worry about with Valentine. I want to be able to trust you, Lee, you're my bodyguard, I have to be able to trust you. I hope you can come to trust me as well."

"Yes, sir." Lee said quietly. Jarvan could see the hesitation still in his face.

"Now, go fetch the others and we'll get back to work." Jarvan picked up a sandwich from the plate and started munching as he glared down at the table. "We've still got a huge amount of paperwork to deal with."

Jarvan laid back in his chair and yawned, raising his arms high above his head, letting his back crack. He slumped down, letting his arms fall over the sides of the plush, high backed chair.

"More coffee, sir?" Lee offered, standing up and cracking his neck from side to side. He took a deep breath and hung his head before straightening his tunic with a brush of his hands. Jarvan picked up his coffee cup and looked at the dregs along the bottom, the black liquid having coalesced into a syrupy substance.

"Is it still hot?" Jarvan leaned forward and ran his hands over his face, feeling the thick stubble that now covered his chin and cheeks. Lee picked up the coffee pot and shook it from side to side before he put his hand on the side of the pot. He looked to Jarvan and shrugged. "Bleh I hate cold coffee." Jarvan growled, leaning back in his chair. "If it's not too late, I can have Noel brew us another...good lord, it's three in the morning."

"Wait... is it really?" Delancey dropped the tome she was reading through on the table, dust rising from the pages as it hit the table. She glanced over to where Valentine had fallen asleep on her arm, two crisp copies of Jarvan's report sitting next to where she lay drooling on her sleeve. Delancey smiled at the young assistant before she looked up at the clock that hung above the massive desk that sat at the far end of the room. "Wow, it IS three." Delancey slumped forward and let her head hit the desk. "I can't believe I didn't notice that."

"Tell me about it, my boyfriend is going to kill me." Lee groaned as he stretched his back. Jarvan paused mid rising to his feet and looked over to where Lee was leafing through a stack of papers.

"Wait you mean..." Jarvan said, frowning slightly.

"Sir?" Lee said, looking back at Jarvan and then frowning.

"And all this time I could have sworn you were..." Jarvan said, pulling himself to his feet. "Uh, never mind."

"What, you thought I was single?" Lee said as he set about straightening the papers and tomes he was working with.

"No, no, I just through you were in to..." Jarvan hesitated and shrugged. "You know, it really doesn't matter."

A slight frown darkened Lee's brow. "Well it matters to me, because it sounds like you thought I was-..."

"Ey, cap'n, what do you want me to do with Valentine." Delancey had hauled herself up and she was standing next to the young woman who had fallen asleep on the table.

"Oh look Valentine is completely out, could you go deal with that? We'll continue this conversation later." Jarvan said hurriedly as if he was trying to avoid the issue. Lee shrugged and moved over to where the young woman was slumped over the table. She groaned a bit and shifted on her arm, slurping a bit, causing Lee to smile and Jarvan to snort and chuckle. "Hell, she even sleeps like her father." Lee sat her back in the chair, letting her head hang back, the brown ponytail drooped over the back of the chair. Lee grunted as he lifted her up in his arms and turned towards Jarvan.

"What exactly, do you want me to do with her?" Lee said with a bit of exertion. Jarvan pointed to a decorative sofa. It had been shoved off to the side of the room when they had brought the table into to the study.

"Just lay her out over there." Jarvan said, glancing around. "I'll go get a blanket and a pillow for her. Soon as you want, you can head on out of here."

Delancey was wandering aimlessly around the room, looking about before she returned to the cushy chair she had been working in. she hovered next to the chair for a few moments before she dragged it around the face the fireplace along the side of the room before she started digging through her pockets.

"Going to crash right there, Del?" Lee said, watching as she started to pull weapons from her person. She dropped the little bit of armor she wore on the ground next to the chair and then worked her tunic out from her belt, yawning. She deposited no less than a dozen throwing knives, a combat knife, a long and slender bladed dagger, two knuckledusters attached to knives with spikes on each knuckle, a short bladed falcata sword, and the saber from her hip, using her chest plate like a bowl. Satisfied she had removed all the weapons, she unsnapped the leather buckles on her grieves.

"Yep." She said, kicking off the armored steel boots, making sure she had a small, triangular shaped blade still strapped to her wrist and then glancing over at Jarvan. "I'll keep an ear out for anything, sir. I'm just going to crash here though, I don't wanna go back to the female dorms this late." Jarvan shrugged as she curled up in the chair, Delancey tucking her legs into her chest. "Besides, someone has to keep you from jumping her bones." She pointed to where Valentine lay on the couch.

"Nothing is going to... She's like a sister to me, damn it!" Jarvan protested, angrily. "I HAVE a girlfriend!"

"Whatever you say." Delancey said, waving him off as she pulled the bun free on the back of her head, tugging her brown hair over her shoulder.

"God... damn... it..." Jarvan muttered with an exasperated sigh. He turned to glare at Delancey, but she had closed her eyes and her chest immediately began to rise and fall deeply. "And she's out like a light." He shook his head and turned back to Lee. "Two questions: does she always fall asleep this quickly, and has she always carried enough weapons to equip a small army?"

Lee snorted and Jarvan watched a thin smile play over his face. "Well, as long as I've known her... yes and yes."

"I've got a friend she'll like." Jarvan said with a grin. "A real weapons enthusiast. More or less a walking armory." He looked back and forth from the two women who were asleep now and shook his head.

"Two women asleep in my suite, and neither of them are the one my heart lies with." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "God damn it."

"Speaking of significant others, I hope you don't have a problem with me having a boyfriend?" Lee said evenly, watching Jarvan's face to judge his reaction.

"Not an issue." Jarvan said shrugging. "If you had mentioned it earlier though, I would have let you gone home to him; I didn't mean to keep you so late. Though... it's a bit surprising after your triad earlier to see you having a significant other of your own."

"He understands this is important work." Lee said shrugging. "He gets a bit impatient when I stay away for several days though. And I don't have any issue with significant others, I just have reservations about a lack of separation between officers and their subordinates. I've seen that cause more trouble than I want to get involved in with my last unit." Lee wore a soft smile, the most emotion Jarvan had seen on his face in the past two days they had spent cooped up in Jarvan's study going through record, reports and hundred and hundreds of tomes. Jarvan shrugged, wearing a admonished smile. "Besides, it's partially a security issue that I'm worried about, not just the girl. If you have anything else you'd like me to sort through..."

Jarvan pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned, messaging his eyelids before wiping his face. "Nah, I don't think we're going to find anything substantial this late." Jarvan shrugged and let his shoulders fall. "You're free to go, Lee. I appreciate all the help with this crap." Jarvan gestured to the papers and books stacked around the office. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Of course, sir." Lee saluted tiredly and then spun, heading for the door. "Goodnight."

"Take care. Give my regards to your boyfriend." Jarvan grinned when Lee looked surprised, glancing over his shoulder at Jarvan. He shook his head and waved over his shoulder, disappearing beyond the door. Jarvan glanced at where Delancey used the chair as a bed, her head laid against the wing of the high backed chair, her blue forelocks falling around her face, long brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Jarvan shook his head as he lifted the stack of reports he had been browsing. He opened the top folder and glanced at it, frowning and then tossing it on the table, realizing he had already read that one.

Jarvan browsed the table, picking out an older looking file that was fairly thin, with frayed edges. He thumbed through it briefly, frowning at the coffee stains along the edge of the paper as he headed for his bedroom. He stepped through the darkened common room, the large fire that had been laid now smoldering embers. He glanced briefly around the room, looking over the many mementos from his past before pushing the door open to the bedroom beyond. Inside was a massive bed and a rather large, empty room, heavy doors holding out the cold as he tread into the room, thick carpet underfoot. There was a bathroom off to the side, but Jarvan glanced around the room before heading to where a massive chest was sitting at the end of the bed. Jarvan tossed the file folder on his bed and then opened the chest, pulling out two heavy blankets, the thick, soft wool fuzzy to the touch. He headed back to the study and then tucked one under his arm, tossing the large heavy blanket over Valentine. She shifted a bit as it settled on top of her and she pulled it around her. Jarvan grinned as he stepped over to Delancey and tossed the other around her.

Satisfied, Jarvan paused, looking back into the dark depths of the suite and frowned, glancing at the clock.

He shivered.

_It may not be the company I would most prefer, but it'll do to warrant off the nightmares._

Jarvan stepped up to a side table and then opened a drawer, pulling out a stack of parchment paper. He took the paper and headed over to his desk, grabbing the short stacks each of his officers had pulled out tossing them on the desk before slumping down in the high backed chair. He pulled a quill and ink bottle from his desk, and started to piece together the makings of suggestions for Councilor Crownguard's contingency plan.

Jarvan sighed and started scratching a plan out onto the parchment.


	9. Chapter 8: Tension

The bar was warm if empty as the noncommisioned officer forced the door closed against the gusting winds. Snow was still in banks along the city roads and a sew flakes danced along the floor as the latch clicked shut. The few men was sat around the fireplace groused against the chill of the wind but they turned back to their drinks and their quiet chatter when they saw the three chevrons of a sergeant on the newcomers shoulder as he swept his cloak over his shoulder. Some made gestures of acknowledgment, but the sergeant showed no interest in the enlisted men, quickly searching the bar over until he saw who he was looking for. He made quick strides, but he was careful to glance around discreetly to ensure nothing was out of the ordinary. Satisfied that the few remaining enlisted men were too busy with their drinks to bother with him or his friend, he slid into the booth.

"Evening, sergeant. Enjoying the new post?" The man was dressed in a dark brown strider-leather jacket and a pair of dark slacks. Polished shoes matched his nice shirt beneath the jacket, a nicely cut vest buttoned up as if he was a waiter at a fine restaurant. The sergeant grunted as he sat back, pulling his heavy clock aside to reveal a set of standard Demacian fatigues. His uniform was sparsely decorated, a combat Magician's tab was above a Demacian Army tab over his left breast pocket, and he wore the Demacian coat of arms and a Unit patch showing the crossed swords of the Demacian Royal Guard on his right shoulder. The name tab was missing from his right pocket, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for officers among the Royal Guard. Smokey light shrouded his face beneath his hood, but olive skin could be see as he looked up towards the ceiling where a record played soft, slow music through the pub. "How was the prince doing this evening?"

"Oh drop the formalities." The sergeant grumbled and sighed heavily. "After today, I'm really not up for it."

"Aww, don't be such a Debby downer." Leather Jacket said, chuckling, getting a disgruntled glare from the sergeant. "I was just teasing you. How was your day?"

"Nothing too out of the ordinary but way too long." The sergeant said brusquely, dropping a coin onto the table and waving the only barmaid working this late over. "Ale, please." She nodded and turned away, heading towards the large wooden bar where a sleepy looking balding man would pour a drink every few minutes as he closed out the late night business, mostly soldiers coming off of late duty assignments .

"Ease up a bit, Wally." Leather Jacket said with a grin, leaning back. "This was supposed to be a casual date, not a military tribunal. Is working with him really that hard?"

The sergeant named Wally shook his head and leaned forward on the table. "Yeah, it's getting pretty frustrating. Keeping up my cover is getting more and more difficult as the prince grows angry at the king and the crap he has to deal with. Hell, even I'm starting to feel for him."

"Don't tell me you've lost your edge now..." Leather Jacket said with an amused grin.

"Hardly, but if I'm to stay under this persona for an extended period of time, I'm going to actively have to earn and maintain the prince's trust. If I don't have it, this is going to be a pain."

"Ease up, Wally, we're still in public." Leather Jacket said with a soft grin. "But I'm sure that's why you haven't called or written in the past three days, huh?" His eyes sparkled in the dim light as he leaned back and covered his mouth and laughed, accepting a refill from the barmaid as she put a second in front of him, and an ale in front of Wally. Wally's frown darkened a bit, but that only caused the other to laugh heartily again. "I'm only kidding, calm down. You're so cute when you're flustered."

"Oh shut up." Wally said, glancing away. The door opened again and they both silenced themselves, looking towards the disturbance. A young woman, fairly short but clad in a heavy dark green cloak with a hood pulled low over her face, stepped out of the chill, a dark blue bird on her shoulder. It had a sharp crest of feathers on the crown of its head, and lighter plumage on its chest. lost, young lady?" The barkeep said with a frown. "It's awful late for you and your bird to be out and about. Why don't you go on home to your parents."

"I'd like a room, please." She said softly, ignoring his statement, running a hand along the bird's head. It had piercing golden eyes that watched intently as the barkeep went through the motions of polishing a glass.

"Oh, is that so?" the Barkeep said, trying to keep his eyes off the young woman's bird.

"Yes please, just one night." She pulled out a couple of silver coins. "This should cover it." She showed him the coins and then emptied them into his hands.

"Yeah that'll do." He said, nodding slowly as he looked over the silver coins. He dug behind the bar and finally pulled out an old, dull key, handing it over the the young woman. "Stay here a sec, I'll go grab your change."

"How about food and drink instead of change." She said gesturing to the bar. The barkeep frowned but shrugged and nodded.

"It'll be a few moments, but I'll see what we've got left." He poured some juice into a glass and handed it over to her. She sniffed at it

"What, not something harder?" She said, pouting.

"Maybe when you're older, kid." The barkeep snorted. "Have a seat in the mean time, I'll bring the food out when it's ready."

"Thanks," She said nodding, heading towards a booth against the far wall.

...

"Runeterra to Sergeant Wally..." Leather Jacket said with a grin. "You there, sergeant?"

"Huh?" Wally shook his head and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, sorry, just trying to keep vigilant while being this tired is difficult. You were asking about the prince?" Leather Jacket eyed the sergeant up for a moment but shrugged.

"How's his mental state right now, he's got to be feeling the pressure. And I bet he's a little fucked up in the head after his adventure, isn't he?" Leather Jacket yawned as he sipped the foam off the top of his brew and then licked it from his upper lip.

"He seems stable enough." Wally said, stifling a yawn and then tossing off a quarter of his ale. "He's still hung up on the loss of his company, and from what I can tell, there is fairly substantial mental damage and possible psychosomatic issues stemming from his anger and frustration. While I can't be sure, I think he's only getting worse by being separated from the dragon-girl and being back in Demacia is keeping him from sleeping at night, only compounding existing problems. He's going to crash soon, and it's going to be hard." Wally paused and shrugged. "Aside from the mental deterioration from his frustrations with his current working conditions and the forced quarantine from the half-dragon, he seems mentally sound."

"Been pushing his buttons, have you?" Leather Jacket said with another grin as he swirl his stein about and then lifted it to his lips.

"Yeah, it's not fun though." Wally said with a sigh. "I nearly had to blow my cover today when he knocked over a cup of coffee and went berserk. He started dressing me down like a drill sergeant, but he realized he was simply frustrated and turned it into a sort of test."

"Oh my, he sounds like he hasn't lost his edge at all..." Leather Jacket purred.

"He's razor sharp but spring loaded. He's wound way too tight and with all the pressure he's feeling, his crash and burn might turn into the better part of a massive explosion." Wally shrugged and took another sip of ale. "I know this is just my personal opinion, but my hunch is that in his current state, the reaction is going to be explosive and dangerous for those around him. I'll do what I can to throttle him, but I don't really know what I'm going to be able to do about it just yet."

"Any ideas about what might be useful for controlling or keeping him in line when push comes to shove?" Leather Jacket said, a more placid and thoughtful face descending upon him as he laid back.

"I think the dragon-girl is the key to keeping him in place." Wally said with a shrug. "He's a good man, but he's brash and impulsive when pushed. Continuing to hold the dragon hostage for an extended period of time is probably going to have the opposite effect to what we want. I would say just give her the position she wants as a bodyguard within the palace guard and he can waste his time screwing her and not meddling in our affairs. But again, that's just my suggestion."

Leather Jacket sighed. "Fine, I'll pass the word along to top and see what they think."

"Thanks, AJ." Wally said with a small smile. "Oh and I need a favor."

"Well this is new." AJ said, smoothing his leather jacket down as he sat up. "You don't often ask for favors."

"I just need some info." Wally slid his hand out along the table, making a show of taking AJ's hand in his, depositing a small piece of paper in his hand as he did.

"Well, I'll see what I can do." AJ yawned and looked at the clock. "You should probably get home, it's pretty late and you've probably got to get an early start tomorrow, am I right?"

"Yep." Wally said, tossing off the last of his ale and pulling himself out of the booth. He tapped the silver coin on the table. "Enough to cover both tabs?" He spoke to the woman who approached and eyed the coin.

"Of course, sir." She said, nodding, her braids bouncing as she did. "I'll get your change."

"Keep it." Wally said, heading for the door, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Thanks for staying open so late."

"Of course sir." She said, bowing in thanks, following as they moved towards the door. "You and your boyfriend stay warm, you hear?"

"Will do." He pulled the door shut.

The barmaid watched them hug, exchanged a quick kiss and then go their separate ways. "What a cute couple." She said to herself, smiling. She turned to the young woman, still grinning. "You wait just a few more minutes, hon, I'll be right back with you food."

"Thanks!" The young woman said with a smile, pulling her hood back to reveal a shock of shoulder length dark hair, messy from her hood. As she shook her hair out and ran hands through it to try and straighten it, the golden eyed bird cocked its head from side to side, shaking its feathers slightly. The young woman eyed the bird with an eyebrow raised, her golden eyes wide and shimmering in the dim light. Her legs stopped moving and she sighed heavily.

"Well... uh... that's not exactly what I expected upon arriving in Demacia." She said softly.

The bird squawked once and shook its head from side to side. The young woman perked up a bit and looked over her shoulder to the kitchen, and then back to the bird.

"Well Valor, we only just got here and Jarvan's already got to be depending on us again." She said with a pixie grin. "It's just like nothing ever changed!" She kicked her legs out and leaned back, smiling.

The bird squawked derisively.

"What? Stick to the plan..." she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned."Not likely." She glanced away and frowned. "Stupid bir-OW! Valor!" The bird had swatted her with his wing and then hopped down onto the table, turning it head to glare at her. The young woman tried to maintain her frown but it melted after a few moments. "Yeah, yeah, I've got this covered. We'll start snooping tomorrow though, okay? I'm tired and hungry." The bird shook its feather disapprovingly but seemed to calm down.

She smiled. "I suppose it's time Demacia got a couple of _real_ heroes." She giggled to herself as she sipped at the juice, clearly excited.

* * *

"Perhaps you would like to join us, Prince Jarvan?" The voice cut through Jarvan's daydreams of Shyvana. The prince shook his head and pushed himself up higher in his chair, high in the Council chambers. High Councilor Elias glared up at him from his presiding perch over the council chambers. "Sorry if we're boring you, but if you want to sleep, you should leave the chambers."

"Apologies." Jarvan said, blushing. "Please continue."

Elias glared at him for several seconds before sighing and turning back to the papers in front of him. "As I was saying, the king has prepared a report regarding the distribution of forces in Kalamanda. If you'd like to bring the council up to speed, your highness?"

"Of course." King Jarvan glanced up at his son, shook his head and then proceeded to the center of the council room. "Thank you, esteemed councilors, for the chance to fully prepare this report. Recent movements across Valoran have shown a massive build up in forces, and though we aim to avoid causing an incident by consistently trying to outmatch our Noxian opponents, we've strived to match their forces. With the large influx of forces into the region, we have aimed to maintain a healthy presence without actively inciting violence or causing trouble for the locals."

He paused and turned to accept a sheet of parchment paper from an officer. "The scouts under Colonel Jerome have been monitoring the ongoing situation in the region around Kalamanda." He glanced down at the list. "Our expeditionary force consists of two full regiments, making up an understrength brigade worth of troops. In addition to standard infantry battalions, we've moved armored cavalry and artillery units in to secure the holdings of the Loadstone Mining Consortium in addition to other Demacian interests in the area. To support the large influx of troops, we've been forced to move our own food supplies into the region to support our forces without breaking the city of it's limited resources. We've begun to seek support from Merchant Guild within Demacia Proper to keep the supplies fresh and flowing, and so far, the movement of supplies has been moving according to plan. We're using what little we have in excess supplies to garner a mutually beneficial relationship with the Kalamandan people as we try to move and secure the sole rights to mine the precious minerals that were recently discovered by prospectors."

"What sort of forces are we up against as far as the other City-states are concerned?" Councilor Krackoffen tugged on his gray beard sagely, a frown marring his face.

"I was just getting to that." King Jarvan said, nodding. "Noxian forces number similar to our own, just over two and a half regiments, though we have been unable to actively determine what sort of distribution of forces they have in the area. We've seen evidence of Arcane Artillery and Monitor Dragon based cavalry in addition to their standard infantry forces. We suspect a similar distribution of forces to our own, but we have been unable to pinpoint the exact numbers. There is a small number of Zaunite forces in the area, not more than an understrength battalion, in addition to a company of Piltover researchers that our forces have been assisting with investigations on the valuable minerals in the area to determine their exact composition and worth."

"Has the Mayor of Kalamanda said anything regarding who the mineral rights contract will go to yet?" Councilor Spiritmight wore an impenetrable frown as he leaned heavily on the desk before him.

"No, councilor, he has not." King Jarvan said, turning towards him. "He has expressed gratitude towards our continued assistance as the political situation in the region fluctuates, though several officials within the Kalamandan government and constabulary have expressed interest in what Zaun has to offer."

"Zaun?" Councilor Krackoffen scoffed. "That's preposterous, there's no reason what so ever for them to side with Zaun."

"My sentiments, Councilor." King Jarvan said, nodding. "While my forces have been unable to ascertain why they chose Zaun over the decidedly superior strength of both Demacia and Noxus financially and militarily, we can't completely wave the idea that there might be foul play afoot."

"You suspect something between the Zaunites and Kalamandan officials?" Councilor Spiritmight raised an eyebrow. "Those are bold claims, my king. Surely you have some evidence to back them up?"

"They are merely the suspicions of an overly paranoid old man." The king said, his eyes darkening slightly as he met his brother-in-law's gaze. "I'm erring on the side of caution with this one, Haywood. I've kept this strictly within my staff until now, and while I've sequestered information from the Kalamandan officials, I've been unable to determine anything. Colonel Jerome's scouts within the city, as well as what forces of the Demacian Security Brigade I've been able to task to Kalamanda, have been warned to keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

A murmur passed through the legislative council, and Jarvan himself had to frown at the decision.

"Are you really so worried that you would deploy your own secret police, father?" Jarvan murmured under his breath.

"Sir?" Delancey leaned in as if she expected an order or request. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Jarvan said dismissively, running a hand over my face. "Just thinking aloud is all."

"Of course, sir." Delancey stepped back and curtly shook her head at Lee to indicate nothing was wrong.

_This could be problematic if the DSB gets involved. _Jarvan frowned. Consisting of hundreds of small special operations units, the Demacian Security Battalion was responsible for a number of different things. The safety of the royal family, information gathering on other governments, and the detainment of political prisoners were just some of the many duties shared with other more traditional Demacian military units. The difference was that the DSB reported directly to King Jarvan, and didn't share the same restrictions as the Demacian Army or Navy. They played fast and loose with the rules for the most part, they were capable and willing of using underhanded methods and tactics to get what they want.

"Order, councilors." Elias said evenly, though he could feel the issues many carried over the fact that the king had deployed the DSB without greater notification to the council. "Do you have anything else for the council regarding the force distribution in Kalamanda, your highness?"

"No, High Councilor, that concludes my report." The king bowed to the council and resumed his seat.

"Now, this brings up to the matter at hand: The Kalamanda Mineral right's dispute." High Councilor Elias said with a frown. "As we've covered the history of the region previously, we might as well jump straight into the matter we are most concerned with amid the council: the heavy presence of Noxian and Zaunite forces in the region."

"We have a large presence of our own within the region, though, how is this our most pressing concern?" A councilor said, her arms crossed over her chest. "Shouldn't our efforts be concentrated on winning the support of the Kalamandans?"

"Yes and no." Another councilor said, shrugging. "The issue is one we must skirt cautiously because of the current balance of power in Kalamanda and the rising number of forces of all parties involved. If we continue to escalate the threat and force Noxus to react to us, we run the risk of becoming the aggressor, and that is not a role we want to represent. If we keep on our current path though, reacting to Noxian forces, we end up in the position of being defenders or peacekeepers, only in the region to maintain the peace and protect the Kalamandan people."

"That's a farce and you know it, Councilor Fedorran." Councilor Laurent said, brushing his hand over his salt and pepper beard. "We, as Demacians, are actively pursuing the rights for sole control of the mineral mines in Kalamanda. To try and say otherwise both undermines our position in the region and sends the wrong message to the Kalamandans. We want to express interest in both controlling the mines as well as assisting in Kalamanda's safety and security as an independent province."

"Well put." Councilor Krackoffen mused, nodding. "But Councilor Fedorran also has a point. We must be willing to gain an upper hand on Noxus through any means necessary, and while it might not be the most graceful way of doing so, appealing to the Kalamandan people and Government holds merit as an idea."

"I'm only one of several merchants who has donated multiple tons of foodstuffs to help deal with the incredible burden the rapid influx of troops has forced upon the region. What more can we do?" The councilor who was speaking frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest, his impeccably well groomed hair sitting perfectly, as if it had been carved from stone.

"The council is well aware of this fact, Councilor Yankov." Krackoffen said waving for the man to calm himself and sit down. The merchant councilor, Yankov, frowned but seated himself. "We are infinitely grateful for you and the merchant guild's quick response, but I was thinking along the lines of something more personal."

"What did you have in mind, Krackoffen?" Councilor Laurent said, twirling the tips of his beard around his finger.

"Our armed forces are renowned across Runeterra." Krackoffen said, gesturing and nodding at the king who gave him a return nod for the indirect compliment. "It wouldn't be outside our realm of possibilities to offer training and assistance to the Kalamandan Militia, in addition to trying to assist them with the policing of the region. Not policing it for them, but working with them to provide the muscle necessary to keep everyone in line."

"My forces are ready and willing to assist the Kalamandan forces, be it with training, exercises, or even simply arms and armor." The king said nodding. "This idea has merit if you ask me."

"While I think it does have it's reasoning, we must tread carefully." Fedorran said angrily. "If we try to muscle in upon the Kalamandan forces, the Noxians and Zaunites may view this as a threat and react accordingly my reinforcing the region."

"That would put them in the position of being the aggressor again, though." Laurent said evenly. "While that isn't good or bad, as we know Noxians have no premonitions about anyone else's views on their methods or ideas, as we saw with the Invasion of Ionia seven years previous. They may react violently, despite the growing presence of the Institute of War in the region as well." He frowned before continuing. "We saw just how the Institute reacted seven years ago, after the invasion had begun. The legitimized it after a rather swift and brutal 'match' upon their fields of justice, and then stood idly by while Noxus besieged the country and mercilessly slaughtered thousands."

"What has happened to the refugees retreating from Kalamanda?" Councilor Brightstorm said, raising his hand slightly so as to appear not but so rude as he jumped into the conversation. "It was my understanding that people have begun to flee the city as military forces pour in from both sides. Have we considered extending an olive branch to them to try and gain the people's trust?"

"We can't push our resources but so far." Councilor Yankov growled, shaking his head. "We've given a decent amount of our reserves to the Kalamandans, distributed amid the city dwellers and the refugees. If we bring the Kalamandans into the city we'll be forced to feed and house them. We can't do that but for so long."

"Yankov, if I remember correctly, you and the merchants guild reported that this coming year was going to be the most profitable harvest in the last two decades, and if I recall correctly, last year, you said the exact same thing." Councilor Laurent said, the makings of a smirk forming on his face as he tugged on his mustache.

"Yes well..." Yankov began to say.

"Then surely you and the merchants guild are going to be able to spare some additional foodstuffs to give to refugees." Laurent said with a smile. "Otherwise you would be selling it, right? Shipping it across Valoran to Piltover, Bandle City, Ionia, Zaun, the Freljord and even Noxus? Surely you would rather aid in the progression of your country than line your own coffers... what would the people think of the likes of that?"

"Enough, I was merely pointing out that it will be an economic strain we must take into consideration when formulating plans." Yankov said, sitting heavily in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "We do have an abundance of foodstuffs even with the winter to come. Housing them all may be an issue, but we have the necessary supplies and resources to make it happen. I would like to suggest that we set up a guest worker program to allow them to contribute to the economy rather than simply feeding on our good will. There is plenty of work that needs doing, especially with the increasing mobilization of our forces."

"It would prove useful to have workers to step in for any reserves we need to call upon if things continue to escalate." The king mused, a smile starting to form on his face. "Is the merchants guild able to assist in the management and training of any guest workers we bring into the city? I'm sure I can speak with the Provost Marshal about having the police forces organize a way to keep track of the the refugees."

"I will speak with the Merchant's Guild and begin the arrangements if the plan goes through." Yankov said, trying to make up for his short comings before, so astutely pointed out by Councilor Laurent.

"I can have my forces begin spreading the word then, and we can begin to set the infrastructure to support such a program." The king said nodding. "I'll have one of my men work with you and the Merchants guild to get it set up."

"That would be perfect, sir." Yankov said, nodding.

"Very good, so we have a course of action settled." Elias said, raising his voice.

"I move to begin a vote to accept the current plan." Councilor Laurent said.

"I second that." Councilor Buvelle said, speaking up for the first time. She drew some curious glances, but she also drew looks of approval.

"Very well." Elias said, nodding. "We will now vote on the suggested plan of supporting Kalamandan refugees, beginning a guest worker program, and working with the Kalamandan forces to try and garner public and governmental support. All in favor?" He quickly did a mental count as hands were raised all around the room, even the reluctant support of Councilor Yankov. "Very well, we have a quorum. If you'll organize the proceedings, your highness?"

"Of course." The king said, nodding his head. "I'll have one of the officers from the Provost Marshal's office set something up with the Merchant guild soon."

"I'll be on the look out for it, sire." Yankov said, nodding.

"Before we stray too far from the issue, I'd like to ask the council's opinion of the supposed Noxian and Ionian Rematch that is slated to occur at the end of the week." Councilor Crownguard said aloud, looking to the council. "While I know this isn't strictly concerning Kalamanda, there are going to be fairy far reaching effects if this battle occurs."

"It is my understanding, according to my daughter, that the battle is legitimate and sanctioned by the league, as well as Noxus and Ionia." Councilor Buvelle said, speaking of her adopted daughter, Sona. "While she wasn't able to offer any reasons as to why the Noxians would extend such an offer, she has expressed her concerns about what would happen is Noxus were to win."

"It's not like they can extend their hold upon the territory they control in southern Ionia, is it?" Fedorran said curiously.

"I don't think my daughter has had a chance to communicate with any of the summoners regarding the official rulings for something like that." Buvelle said with a frown. "Though she expressed that Demacia should be wary for additional pressure in the Kalamanda region if the Noxians are forced out of Ionia. They be looking to try and garner the resources in Kalamanda if they lose access to Ionia's natural resource stockpiles. And if they win the rematch, they might be emboldened by their victory and strike out in Kalamanda."

"So what you're saying is that regardless of the outcome of this battle, you believe we're in trouble." Councilor Laurent said, frowning.

"More or less, yes." Councilor Buvelle said, nodding solemnly.

"Bloody hell." Laurent growled, shaking his head.

"Control yourself, councilor." Elias said with a bit of amusement in his voice.

"Apologies, Councilor Elias." Laurent said with a smile, but the high councilor simply nodded. "Your Majesty, do you believe this will change anything in the short term regarding our existing plan?"

"Not just yet, councilor." The king said with a frown. "Though I will ensure my forces are prepared for any new developments regarding either outcome of the battle."

"Very well." The high councilor mused, turning back to his notes. "Councilor Crownguard, are you able to present your staff's contingency plans yet?"

Marcus Crownguard stood and then bowed at the high councilor. "No sir, not yet." He paused and then glanced at the king. "Despite the prince's assistance in this matter, Jericho Swain's reach is proving to be reaching far and distant, stretching further back that I initially expected. While there are almost a dozen incidents that we can definitively tied to him, there are several hundred that will have to be analyzed case by case. With the prince's continued assistance I hope we can work through them fairly quickly. Once that is complete and his capabilities have been fully explored, we can begin to extrapolate what he's willing and capable of doing."

"And my son has proved helpful?" The king said, stroking his beard, glancing up to where Jarvan sat.

"He has." Councilor Crownguard said, nodding. "He and his staff have been able to narrow down our reports for consideration. It went from several thousand to only a few hundred, though we have yet to turn up much substantial in the way of hard information on Swain or his background."

"Perhaps the prince will be able to fill us in on what he's found?" High Councilor Elias suggested, gesturing towards the prince.

"Of course. Jarvan?" The king looked to him and Jarvan felt his stomach knot up as he pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat.

"While I was given access to hundreds of resources within the Academy Archives, I wasn't able to dig up much in the way of information on Jericho Swain. The earliest records of Swain trace back to intercepted reports from Noxian officers and written notes from Demacian Scouts regarding fighting with Noxus on the border. These notes date from the last major border war with Noxus, and though they don't mention him by name, the descriptions matches Swain's appearance to the point where it is indisputable. From that point, the first real mention of Swain comes when he receives his commission from Major to Lieutenant Colonel at the end of the last great border war, not long before the formation of the League of Legends. From there, the records are complete but vague with only small holes here and there that seem to be directly correlated to reports from other military forces or Noxian News clippings."

"No recorded history of his birth at all?" Councilor Laurent raised an eyebrow. The doubt on his face clearly showed that he doubted Jarvan was telling the truth.

"No sir." Jarvan said, addressing the councilor directly. "Without access to Noxian records, Swain is a virtual ghost prior to a certain point." Jarvan shrugged.

Laurent frowned and pointed towards Jarvan. "But surely you cou-..."

"Unfortunately, the information just doesn't exist for me to access, councilor." Jarvan growled.

"Thank you, Prince Jarvan." High Councilor Elias said, cutting off Councilor Laurent before the older legislator could open his mouth to argue with the prince. "Councilor Crownguard, how long will it take to analyze the remaining reports and draft up the contingency plans?"

"A few weeks at best." The Crownguard Councilor said with a frown. "Even with the prince's assistance, it will probably take us a while to get through all the reports to extract the valuable information, and from there we'll have to analyze each drafted plan, projecting all of the consequences of each before we narrow them down. And now, will the problems regarding the Ionia and Noxus rematch, it could prove to take even longer."

"Very well." The High Councilor said, nodding. "Perhaps having the prince assigned to your staff for a period of time will speed the process along?"

"It's certainly possible." Councilor Crownguard said, nodding.

"Very well. I'll see to it the paperwork is taken care of in the mean time." The king said, nodding. "Though being a member of a councilor's staff usually requires a higher rank than that of a captain." He turned and looked to his son. "I hope you'll accept the promotion that goes along with this appointment, Prince Jarvan. To go with this and to speed your investigations, I'm upping your security clearance to the highest level. That is, if you accept the promotion of course."

"Of course, your highness." Jarvan said, standing and bowing.

"Very good." The king said with a thin smile. "I'm bumping you up to Lieutenant Colonel, and you'll work under Councilor Crownguard and General Lorcan. Congratulations." A smattering of polite applause filtered through the council room.

"Sir." Jarvan said, nodding, before returning to his seat.

"If anyone has any further business to conduct?" The High Councilor glanced around the room, looking for anything further to be brought up but the councilors remained silent. "Very well, this will conclude our proceedings for now. We shall recess for two hours for lunch and then reconvene to continue with our regular legislative efforts, sans those military officers who needed be involved with the law making affairs of politicians." He raised his gavel and brought it down, striking the desk.

"I'm really getting fed up with these meetings." Jarvan groaned as he pulled himself to his feet and yawned.

"Congratulations on your Promotion, Lieutenant Colonel Lightshield." Lee snapped off a stiff salute. Delancey did as well, though she wore a goofy grin.

"Thanks, I think." Jarvan said wearing a small smile of his own.

"Well sir, I'm happy to say while our only duty under you was a bit boring, I had a lot of fun." Delancey said with a shrug and a grin. "If you ever need a bodyguard, or just a soldier, don't be afraid to send for me."

Jarvan frowned a bit. "Well if you thi-..."

"Jarvan." The king's voice was deep as he drew his son's attention, forestalling the prince's further comments. "Congratulations on your promotion, my son."

"Thank you, father." Jarvan said nodding. His gaze turned to the man with thin, dark eyes and black hair pulled back in a pony tail, a long spear held vertically, a blue and gold banner hung just behind the steel head. "Xin Zhao, it has been too long." Jarvan said with a smile, bowing to the Seneschal.

"Greetings, young master." The Seneschal replied with a serene smile, returning the bow. "I had heard of your return while I was attending to business with the Institute of War. I am glad to see you have returned unharmed."

"Thank you." Jarvan said, letting a bit of a cocky grin slide onto his face. "Though I'm hardly 'young' anymore."

"Apologies." Xin said, nodding sagely. "Though as I am old enough to be your father, or even your grandfather, I believe I garner he right to refer to you as 'young'." Jarvan chuckled and shrugged.

"Eloquent as ever." Jarvan smiled. Jarvan started to turn back to his subordinates, but he paused. "If you would allow me, father, I have a request to accompany my promotion."

"Oh?" The king said, looking back towards Jarvan. "Seldom does an officer ask favors to accompany a promotion." The prince met his father's even glare, the king's eyes a neutral bluish-gray, neither icy nor dangerously dark. He stared at his son for a few brief moments before he sighed and nodded slightly. "Walk with me and I will listen." They moved through the doorway and into the halls of the Demacian Palace.

"I'd like to have these two officers, as well as my administrative assistant, transferred to my staff under the councilor and General Lorcan."

"Oh, is that all?" The king said, surprise playing over his face before he managed to conceal it. "Of course, I'll need you to submit the paperwork but it will be an easy enough reallocation of forces."

"Thank you, sir." Jarvan said, narrowing his eyes. _He expected something else? _"In addition, Father," Jarvan said, pushing forward." I'd like to request Shyvana be transferred out of Lt. Colonel Spiritmight's training unit and into my command. I'd also like Corporal Ellington Forsythe to be returned to my command."

Jarvan III's brow darkened a bit and his eyes narrowed. "Corporal Forsythe is undergoing medical therapy and a psych evaluation to my knowledge. He is still suffering the ill effects of a lack of proper medical treatment for his missing eye, and he shows major signs of post traumatic stress disorder due to the loss of the remainder of your company."

"Forsythe?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow. "There's no way he'd be suffering from something like that. He is stronger than that."

"Are you a doctor?" The king said, his frown growing darker. Jarvan opened his mouth to speak but his father cut him off with a cloudy blue gaze silenced his protests. "I did not think so. He is not combat or service ready until he is cleared from the hospital. He is getting the best of care so let him recover. Two years of service... this is the least you can give him."

"Fine." Jarvan growled, feeling shamed at having had his argument turned back on him so swiftly. "How about Shyvana. I'm sure she's swept through the tests as if they were nothing. She's a powerful ally to Demacia. Keeping her trapped in a training unit is paramount to throwing away resources. You always manage Demacia like a hawk, this is hardly your way."

"You let your emotions rule your judgments about that... _woman." _The was a moment of hesitation in his voice that spoke of how he had been tempted to use another word. "I've already waved the mandatory basic training that all new recruits must go through. I was told she actually failed her initial test in her unit. Apparently, the lieutenant saw it fit to give her the chance to waive training completely if she had won but she was taken down fairly swiftly."

"Shyvana lost?" Jarvan said, falling a bit short, his shoulders sinking just a bit. "But how..."

"I believe you trained with her lieutenant... a Proudmast Vorscham?" The king smirked as Jarvan's face went blank. "Now just forget about her for now, you have other duties you must attend to. Chasing exotic tail can wait till later." He turned to leave, but he noticed his son's fists were shaking at his side.

"You think that is all this is about?" Jarvan growled, his tone dropping. "You think me so shallow?"

"No, I think you a young man who has been gone for two years." His father said evenly. "It would only be natural that you would let yourself become enamored with the first thing you could lay your hands upon. It's only natural."

"So you think I'm a desperate pig, then?" Jarvan IV stopped and turned to face his father, their guards slowing to a halt behind them. "That I would go for anything with breasts and a vagina?"

"Mind your tongue." The king said, his irritation starting to show in his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned down under the edges of his beard. "It's simply human nature. As soon as you come to your senses about this 'Shyvana' business, I have already arranged for your fiance to meet you."

"Fiance?!" Jarvan practically shouted, bringing all traffic in the busy hallway to a screeching halt. Soldiers all turned to face him, officers, noncommissioned officers, and enlisted men alike turned to watch as the prince stamped his foot and shouted in anger.

"Yes." The king said with an annoyed frown. "I was going to let your mother tell you this later today, but the council decided to host a ball, to honor your promotion and to celebrate your return to Demacia. Your fiance was going to be announced then and there."

"Like hell." Jarvan snarled. "I'd rather run myself through with my lance!"

"That could be arranged!" His father snarled back, his eyes clouding over like a ranging thunderstorm. Silence swallowed the hallway like a void, soldiers crowding at both ends of the hallway. Many needed to pass, but many were too scared to try and pass the king and prince as they argued.

"Should we stop him?" Lee whispered to Delancey, watching the king and the prince continue their shouting match.

"You wanna try it? Be my guest." Delancey said, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest, steel forearm plates clanking against her chest plate. She looked angered, but Lee couldn't tell what exactly at. Lee glowered but turned back to where the royal shouting match had resumed.

"I'm telling you now, I refuse any woman you appoint for me to marry! I won't put up with it!" The prince shouted, disgust rolling off his tongue.

"It's not just about what you want, you royal brat." The king snarled. "I put up with your silly journey for over two years. It's time you grew up and faced the real world as the Demacian Crown Prince, not a little boy screwing his way through college, fumbling his way across the battlefield and crashing through politics like a bloody bull!"

"Bite me, old man!" Jarvan shouted. "I didn't ask for any of this! I had to watch my entire company get slaughtered before my very eyes. I still have nightmares where I watch Noxians behead my men, running them through and lopping limbs off for fun. You slunk your way up through the ranks by way of the Demacian Security Brigade, politics, and talking. You blew smoke up people's asses to get your way! You're a soft fucking politician and I don't want anything to do with the Lightshield Dynasty if it's going to mean being like you!"

"Shut your mouth." The king snapped, staring up at his son, the tension in the air so thick you could slice it with a knife. "The world isn't just about war anymore. You can't simply go out and bully and bloody anyone you don't agree with; you can't threaten to start a war over things so trivial as a single company of soldiers! Demacia is a proud nation and there is no retreat, no surrender. They found their honor in death! Maybe you should think about someone other than yourself for once. You do nothing but dwell on your past and you're going to get yourself killed. Right now you're no better than that half-human, half-beast monster you keep as a pet! You're not fit for office or as the hei-..."

Jarvan reared his fist back and stepped in as fury consumed him, driving him into a blind rage. Xin swept in, levering the prince back with the tip of his lance, slamming him into the wall with such force that a vase upon a pedestal bounced and then smashed upon the floor, sending water, china, and flowers streaming everywhere. Xin pushed forward, pressing his forearm across the prince's chest as he struggled.

"Jarvan, use your head!" Xin hissed, anger in his voice. "This was not the way you were trained. I did not teach you like this, and this is hardly fitting of the crown-prince! You the heir to an empire, not a little boy!"

Jarvan heated glare turned to the aging Seneschal, but the fury slowly started to subside. His chest heaved as his breathing slowed, and the anger turned to disgust. He glared at his father in indignation.

"I rest my point." The king said, smoothing the decorative tunic over top of his armor, stepping out of the rapidly expanding puddle from the vase. "I've had enough of this nonsense, and I'm through indulging your selfish desires." He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "This is no place for this sort of outburst, and if you were even half as mature as you should be then you would have known that. Perhaps you came back to soon. You're as hot-headed and as rash as ever. Though I suppose it's good that if nothing else your spirit hasn't been broken."

"I'm a much better man than you'll ever be." The prince snarled. "I've known men that were ten times what you are. You're not a king, you're just a puppet master pulling the strings and watching as those around you dance and suffer. But you know what, I refuse to be a puppet for your whims. Find someone else to dance your bloody tune."

"Maybe I should take you and your dragon and dump you back in the fucking desert." The king growled, shaking his head. "All you're proving to be is a damned headache. Don't make me regret my decision to promote you."

"You can have the rank back, I don't want it. And sure, stick me in the damned desert, it'd be better than this shit." Jarvan shot back, acidly. The king's face blanked for a few moments before he scowled.

"Enough. I have business to attend to. I've entertained your foolishness long enough." The king said, shaking his head. "I'm placing you under house arrest for the safety of you and those around you. You two," He pointed to Lee and Delancey. "Escort my son to his quarters and keep him there under armed guard until further notice. Xin, have an armed guard arranged to be posted on his quarters twenty-four-seven."

"Yes, your majesty." Xin said, bowing his head before shooting an exasperated glance at the prince. Jarvan ignored him, standing defiantly by.

"Sir..." Delancey said hesitantly. A single glance from the king's stormy eyed gaze was enough to silence her qualms and she gulped, saluting.

"Get this idiot out of my sight!" The king waved him away and then stormed off, the utterly silent crowd of soldiers and staff parting to let him though. Delancey glanced at Lee and frowned, but turned to the prince and shook her head. She had a duty to perform. She stepped up to her former commander and took him by the arm.

"This way, sir." She said tersely, the anger still riding high in her voice. Jarvan glared angrily at her, yanking his arm from her hand and then stomping off towards his suite of rooms with a sneer of contempt. Delancey and Lee followed after him, glaring at the soldiers who watched them with wide eyes and open mouths.


	10. Chapter 9: Broken

The clicking of heels on stone told Delancey of someone's approach long before she could see anyone coming around the curved corridor. She straightened up and let her hand settle on the blade strapped to her hip.

"Eyes up, at attention." She barked quietly. Across the set of double doors, a corporal clad in full armor snapped to attention, his lance held at the regulation twenty degree angle in his left hand, the tip pointing away from the door. Delancey didn't know his name, and right now she didn't care.

The echo finally starting to die down as it dissolved into two pairs of heels, the tall and elegant frame of Catherine Lightshield turning the corner as she stepped into view, moving along the corridor. Behind her, the black and white uniform of a maid followed in her wake, the glasses and blue eyes of Noel coming into view from behind her as she slowed to a stop in front of the doors. Lady Catherine reached towards the handle of the door, but the corporal slid the lance across his body and held it in front of the door.

"Apologies, ma'am!" He barked. "The prince has been allowed no visitation rights while under house arrest. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But I simply want to visit my son." Lady Catherine said, a frown marring her face. Delancey frowned as little wrinkles formed on Lady Catherine's face, but she sighed softly and nodded. "I understand your orders, young man, but can you not allow a mother to visit her only child after over two years of his absence?"

The corporal hesitated for a few moments but he shook his armored helm in the end. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but-..."

"You will have you remain under armed guard." Delancey said, opening the door. "I hope you do not mind, but we must maintain a solid security screen at all times."

"I understand..." Catherine said softly, nodding. "Thank you." Delancey nodded curtly and pushed the door open, allowing Lady Catherine and Noel to enter the outermost room of Jarvan's suite. Inside, another guard was posted at the closed doors to the study, and Lee sat on the edge of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a thoughtful frown on his face. He looked up and stood as Lady Catherine approached.

He raised a hand to keep her from coming any closer. "Sorry, ma'am you can't-..."

"Drop it, Lee." Delancey growled. Lee shot her a questioning glance but Delancey shook her head and Lee snapped his mouth shut. "Private, take the post outside the doors and await further orders."

"But sergeant..." The solider began to protest but Delancey's glare silenced his qualms. He snapped off a brisk salute and then stepped around Delancey and the queen, heading out the door. As soon as they closed behind him, Delancey's shoulders sunk and she shook her head.

"How's he doing, Lee?" She asked, gesturing to the door.

"Well the banging and crashing stopped about half an hour ago." The sergeant said with a dark frown. "But I'm honestly afraid about what happened in there. The silence is more ominous than the sounds of destruction."

"Destruction?" Lady Catherine repeated, worry showing in the lines on her face. "What happened?"

"Well..." Lee said hesitantly. He traded a glance with Delancey and set his jaw.

"I don't think I've ever heard the prince this angry, ma'am." Delancey said cautiously. "He was in a fit about the encounter with the king this morning and he hasn't gotten over himself quite yet. He... uh, well, he swung at the king when he was … ah, _provoked_ by the king. While I don't think he will face the normal punishment, it is still a very serious crime he has committed."

"He swung at Trey?" Catherine said, covering her mouth with a hand, trying to hide the shock she felt. "He's not to be executed, is he?" She said hurriedly.

"No, no, of course not." Delancey said, trying to calm the woman down. "We have yet to hear of any punishment being levied yet, but we were ordered to keep him here, no visitors, no contact, no food, nothing."

"That's barbaric." Catherine said, aghast.

"Orders, ma'am." Lee said, tightly.

"I would like to see my son, now." Catherine said, taking a deep breath as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. The chill of the room was noticeable, and the fireplace lay empty and dormant.

"Ma'am, I can't allow that." Lee said, frowning, moving to stop her as she approached the door to Jarvan's study.

"I'll see to it you're thrown in the dungeons, sergeant." Catherine said softly. Though there was no anger or threat in her voice, the underlying menace was more than enough to send ice coursing up Delancey's spine. She shivered as the queen stood up and glared at Lee.

"And the king would see my head removed from my shoulders otherwise, milady." Lee said, trying to keep his composure under her withering glare.

"I shall deal with the consequences later, now open this damnable door!" The queen snapped. Lee's mouth feel open and it took him several seconds to close it and wipe the stupid look off his face. He frowned and raised his arms before him apologetically.

"Ma'am..." Lee tried to protest again.

"Just open the door, Lee." Delancey said, shaking her head. "She's not going to listen to two lowly sergeants. Anger crossed Lee's face but he groaned and waved the other sergeant off.

"Fine, but this is on your head, Del." Lee bit back. Delancey only rolled her eyes and then unlocked the door using a key on her belt. She pulled the door open and allowed the queen to enter. Delancey waited for Noel to enter as well, but the maid didn't not move, merely clasping her hands in front of her, content to wait in the outer room. Delancey shrugged. She followed the queen into the room and locked the door behind her, but when she turned around, she was not ready for what she saw, her mouth hanging ajar.

Books and tomes were strewn everywhere, pages and papers laying crumpled and ripped across the room. Sheets of parchment were tossed everywhere like a thick blanket of snow, and ink stained more than a few of the pages, a splatter pattern leading up the wall to the ceiling. An entire book case had been ripped from the wall, and a neat, fist shaped hole marked the wall. The stone behind the drywall was bloody, and splatters of blood marked several other indentations in the wall. Shattered glass and a number of broken pieces from picture frames stuck from the walls at odd angles. Only the subtle flicker of light from a wall lamp that had been spared the destruction lit the room. Silhouetted by the darkness of the room and the light that shown through the windows, Jarvan was shrouded in darkness. His hair was unkempt and he shifted slightly, the upturned desk creaking as he lowered an armored boot to the ground from atop one leg.

"Oh my god..." Delancey said softly, looking around the room. Only hours before she had woken up in a chair that now sat shattered and broken in front of the fireplace. The heavy wooden table was broken clean in half, and the books around the room formed an impenetrable ocean of clutter that covered the floor.

"Who goes there?" The prince croaked, his voice broken.

"Jarvan, I..." Catherine begin to say but the prince pulled himself to his feet and turned, moving slowly through the sea of destruction to the window, letting his back face the room.

"What can I help you with, Lady Catherine?" Jarvan said, his voice was dull and flat, void of life or emotion. There was no anger or sadness. Simply nothing.

"I came to check on you..." She said softly, her eyes wide as she surveyed the destruction. Her voice was quiet and reverent, the awe evident in her voice. "I wanted to see how my son was doing after this morning."

"I am well." Jarvan said, his voice still void of emotion.

"This is hardly well, my son..." Catherine said, looking over the destruction. "If you would like to talk about it, I could listen and help?"

"What is there to listen and help with?" Jarvan said quietly. "I've calmed myself after my shameful outbursts this morning. I realized the error of my ways."

"Jarvan..." Catherine said softly, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress before they could roll free, trying to put on a brave face. "I suppose this mess needs to be cleaned up, does it not?" Catherine said aloud, trying to hide the pain she felt with a smile.

"Ma'am, I can't let you stay but so long..." Delancey said gently.

"It won't take me but a few moments." Catherine said, nodding, turning away from her son. Delancey could see her hands shaking with grief though. She was obviously rattled much more than she wanted to let on. "It's been a while but I believe I remember the charm." She raised her hands in front of her and closed her eyes, the quaking becoming more controlled. Her lips moved as if she were chanting an incantation. She began to glow with golden light and wind began to whip around her, gusting paper into the air as if it caught in a tornado. Catherine's long brown hair flared in the air above her, battered and whipped about by the wind as tomes and paper began to dance through the air.

"Ma'am..." Delancey began to say, taking a half step backwards, but she nearly slipped and fell as a tome she had stepped on was tugged from beneath her feet. She yelped and jumped as tomes and papers whizzed past her head. The table began to violently shake and then pulled itself together, the sound of ripping wood filling the air, creaking and cracking echoing about as it mended itself. The chair shook for a few seconds and then bounced onto it's feet, meeting the snapped legs in the air and then settling on the ground with a clatter. Picture frames mended and glass seemed to coalesce into solid sheets, flying through the air to where they had originally hung on the walls. The holes in the wall seemed to simply puff out to form a solid surface and the blood disappeared. The shelf settled back into its place against the wall and books started crashing onto the shelves one by one, in rapid succession. Tomes began to neatly pile up and ripped pages slipped back into place, the seams reaching out and knitting together where they had been ripped. They formed neat stacks as spilled ink drained from the pages and then flowed back into its bottle like a glossy ribbon. The desk tipped up onto its feet and crashed down with a muted thud. The contents of the top of the desk slid down like birds landing on the beach as the wind finally began to die.

Silence filled the room.

"That's much better." Catherine said as she moved towards the wall and turned on another hextech lantern, letting the soft orange light flicker about the room, mixing with the dim light of the overcast sky. She paused next to a picture frame and adjusted it slightly so it was level again. "Now, dear, won't you please come over here and let me take a look at your hand?"

"Why?" Jarvan said softly.

"It's bleeding still." Catherine said as gently as possible. "I would just like to take a look at it." She moved to a corner of the table and picked up some papers and set them aside, clearing a bit of space.

"I'll fetch some medical equipment, milady." Delancey said, but the queen waved her aside.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you." The queen said, giving Delancey a warm smile. "Please Jarvan, if nothing else, just let me take a look at your hand." He remained despondent for a few moments before he turned and sat down at the table, laying his hand out for Catherine to see. She sucked in a breath and held it, blackened blood struggling to scab across his smashed knuckles. The wounds were red and bloody, and it looked as if several knuckles had been completely broken. "How are you feeling, Jarvan?" Catherine said as she carefully examined the wounded hand. He flinched when she tried to gingerly bend one of his fingers.

"Numb." Jarvan said quietly, not going any further into his state of being at the moment. Catherine could see that inside, Jarvan was torn up about something, and she suspected that it was the fact the king was forcing him to choose between his love and the woman he held dear and his family obligations and country. She sighed as she gently laid her son's hand upon the table. She held her hands above his and closed her eyes, her lips moving again in a silent incantation.

"You know that your father and I love you very much, correct?" Catherine said as a soft green glow began to emanate from her hands, falling upon Jarvan's hand like a blanket of green mist. The bloodied hand began to bubble and foam and pain played across Jarvan face. "I'm sorry, I haven't used healing magic in many years... I may be a bit rusty."

Jarvan said nothing, a thousand yard stare shooting straight over her head.

Catherine felt a pang on grief in her heart, but she push on. "Your father only wants what is best for you. He cares deeply about you... he wants you to be happy."

"He cares about his legacy and his nation." Jarvan said dully, closing his eyes and exhaling sharply as the wound on the first knuckle closed, and the bone shifted back into place. "He has no place in his life, heart, or nation for a son who doesn't follow orders or fit his plans. He doesn't know the meaning of happiness."

"That's not true." Catherine said, still having to concentrate on her healing. She could feel tears welling in her eyes but she did her best to blink them away. "He cares about you more than you know."

"He has a wonderful way of showing it, then." Jarvan said, a bit of venom sliding into his voice. Catherine's fingers twitched as the comment cut deep in her heart. Her hands began to shake.

"He doesn't know how to show it..." Catherine said softly, her voice beginning to waver. "But he cares about you more than anyone else in the world, Jarvan. He loves you with all of his heart and he wants to help you. He wants to prepare you for what is to come, so you can be happy in life."

"He seems content making sure I'm as miserable as possible." Jarvan said, the venom gone again, his voice despondent and hollow.

"What makes you happy then?" Catherine said softly, exhaling heavily, her breathing a bit strained as she lowered her hand to sit on Jarvan's healed hand. "What is it you want?"

"I want Shyvana." Jarvan said, slipping his hand out of her grasp and standing up. "He refuses her because of what she was, not of who she is. He is content to separate us and torment me, to try and use her to bend me to his will. He wants me to be the perfect little prince. Loyal, smart, and obedient." Jarvan clenched his fists. "That part of me died when I led one hundred and thirty-nine men and women to their deaths. Blind ambition and stupidity cost me the innocence of my humanity, and I refuse to view soldiers as pawns like the king does."

"Jarvan..." She said softly.

"If he wanted another animal, a meat grinder to simply chew up Noxians and Demacians and spit out propaganda, he should have looked somewhere else." Jarvan said angrily. "I want to do good by at least one person in my life. I can't deal with the thought of throwing more lives away into that meat grinder. I refuse to turn the crank that chews them up... I'd rather die then submit Shyvana to a fate like that."

Catherine worked her jaw for a moment, searching for something to say. "Jarvan, I-..."

"If you wouldn't mind, mother, I'd like some time alone please." Jarvan said, stepping up to the window.

"Very well." Catherine said, nodding, her hands still quaking. She stood up and moved to the door, hesitating. "I love you, Jarvan."

He stood looking out the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and remained silent.

"This way, ma'am." Delancey said softly, opening the door for her.

"Thank you, sergeant." Lady Catherine said heavily. She paused in the outer room, but didn't stay long.

"Ready, milady?" Noel said with a soft voice, her tone neutral.

"Yes, Noel." Lady Catherine nodded, letting the maid lead her to the door. Delancey escorted them out. When the sergeant returned to the room, she sighed heavily and shook her head.

"How'd things go in there?" Lee asked glancing over his shoulder towards the door.

"Well I don't think things got any worse, but I don't think they really improved either." Delancey shrugged. "I get the sinking feeling that the royal family is a bit more dysfunctional that appearances would have us believe. And Jarvan seems to have all but shut down emotionally."

"I don't think any royal family was ever really forthcoming about their issues." Lee said shrugging. "My parents didn't exactly approve of many of my life choices, I can bet on how hard the prince must have it with his father running an entire country."

Delancey snorted. "You feel sorry for him? That's a first."

"I mean..." Lee's voice trailed off and he sighed. "Yeah, I can understand what he's going through to an extent. My parents didn't approve of me bringing guys home. They wanted me to get an education that they scraped together enough just to get me through, and in return they wanted me to take care of them and give them grandchildren. Well, choosing to be a career soldier doesn't pay much and being gay doesn't exactly prove indicative of children. Jarvan's looking at something similar, but he's under the microscope of the entire world because he's a crown prince."

"And here I though my rebellious phase was bad." Delancey said, shaking her head. "Brought home a few delinquent boyfriends, died my hair odd colors, joined the army, but in retrospect I was a good kid." She said laughing. "Not something I ever expected to say."

"Don't kid yourself, Del." Lee said with a thin grin. "You're a fucking angel."

She shrugged and sighed. "I think Jarvan is having a bad time though. He really seems shaken up by what happened this morning." She clenched her fists. "I can't blame him though, to think his own father would says something like that..."

"He's a prince, Del." Lee said, shaking his head. "He's not like us. He's got so much more he has to worry about, and if he's too obsessed with his dragoness companion, well, what does that say about what'll happen when he comes to power?"

"I guess..." Delancey said, shaking her head, blue forelocks bouncing around. "I would socked that old bastard in the jaw something fierce if I'd been able to, though."

"If you do, just let me know so I know to send some flowers to your funeral." Lee said shaking his head. "Jarvan's getting off easy though. Xin Zhao stopped him before he managed to get to the king If he'd actually made contact, he'd probably be facing a tribunal right about now, and who knows what would have happened after that."

"Yeah, I guess." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I just don't get it though. Why is this such a big deal, this business with the dragon girl?"

"There are so many different things, not least of which could be any number of security issues." Lee said shaking his head and leaning heavily on the corner of the desk. "There are only two people alive right now that know who she is, and that's the prince, who seems madly in love with her, and the corporal who is now the only remnant of the princes old company. While I feel sympathy for the prince, I can't fault the king for being suspicious about it." He pushed himself up and moved to where a massive portrait of Jarvan and his mother and father hung on the wall. The prince was probably only ten or eleven in the picture. "He was gone for so long after a number of traumatic experiences. I wouldn't be surprised if the prince is suffering from depression, PTSD, shellshock..." Lee's voice tapered off.

"So what do we do, then?" Delancey asked, frowning.

"Nothing at the moment." Lee said, holding up a hand to forestall any comments. "We give them time to work their issues out. Jarvan isn't down and out yet, but I think he's starting to realize he can't fight some things head on. The queen showing up here tells me that she sees it too, and while I don't know what was said in the room, I think the course of action to fixing this situation has already begun to play itself out." He shrugged.

"I hope things work themselves out." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I don't like being stuck in this position."

"Me either." Lee said nodding. He frowned as he glanced towards the door. "Unfortunately, only time will tell."

* * *

"Noel, do you think me a bad parent?" Catherine paused at the top of the stairs, the maid stopping just behind her.

"Ma'am?" Noel said tepidly. The queen turned to face her, a frown marring her face, the pain she wore exaggerating her age.

"I don't know what to do right now." Catherine said softly. "When we had Jarvan, I was so much busier with the council politics, with helping Trey run the country and trying to control relations within the Institute of War. I let—no, I asked you to help me raise Jarvan, but in the end I barely had anything to do with his upbringing." She paused and shook her head. "I feed so useless even now, I don't know how to help my own son."

"Ma'am, it might not be about helping him directly." Noel said softly. "But being there for Jarvan if he needs you, showing support of his feelings and trusting in him. That can show that you care about him as much as any parent would care about her children."

"I guess." Catherine said hesitantly, looking to the ground. Her eyes sought the ground as if it had answers, but she took a deep breath and sighed. "I'd like for you to set up a meeting with Shyvana, please Noel."

"Ma'am?" The maid raised an eyebrow, her glasses shimmering.

"I'd like the chance to meet the woman my son is so enamored with." Catherine said, pausing momentarily. "Something casual, and soon if possible."

"I'll get right on it, ma'am." Noel said bowing. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, Noel." Lady Catherine said, nodding. "Thank you." The maid disappeared down the steps, her heals clicking behind her as she made her off to carry out the queen's request. Lady Catherine started to take a step down, but paused, looking over her shoulder, down the corridor towards her son's quarters. She leaned heavily against the wall, and felt a heavy weight upon her shoulders. She tried to keep her footing but she slowly sunk towards the ground, tears clouding her eyes.

"I am sorry, Jarvan." Catherine said quietly as sobs began to shake her shoulder. "I am so sorry... I hope you can forgive your father and I for what we have done..."


	11. Chapter 10: Exhibition

"So, LT, what exactly are we doing out here in the middle of the palace grounds?" One of the Demacian soldiers growled, sitting up from where the better part of the platoon was lazing around, sitting on the ground, spread out around a large open area. Down at the bottom of the large hill that sloped towards the bay, but still high above the sea, the area was open, an odd looking structure behind them and a large podium standing off to one side. Snow covered everything except where it had been trodden down where the makeshift 'building' had been put together.

"Eyes up, ladies and gentlemen." Vorscham growled as he strode over from where he had been speaking with another officer. He growled as he watched the platoon get slowly to their feet. He waited until the entire unit was standing before he cleared his throat. "Today we will be running building clearing exercises."

A murmur of grumbling passed through the troops. "Building clearing? What the hell are we doing that for?"

"Can it, girl scouts, I don't want to hear any of your bullshit right now." Vorscham barked, putting his fists on his hips as he looked around the group. "We've got the big shots coming down for a demonstration regarding the readiness and capabilities of the rotational company were the palace to be besieged. They want to test our reactions and readiness levels to an adverse situation. That is why you pansies are here. Major Seymour has seen it fit to volunteer—ask me to lead you twits in the demonstration for our glorious leader and a number of guests of his choosing."

Another wave of chatter passed through the men and women of second platoon, Victoria Company of the First Demacian Royal Guards Battalion. "Volunteered? Fucking Seymour."

"I said shove the chatter, ladies!" He waited just a brief moment for the chatter to die. "We're going to split up into three squads for the exercise: Azure, Gold and Ivory. Bruno has command of Azure, Horrace has Gold and Ivory goes to Kelly. With each clearing, you will be going in blind, combined arms. There will be _bandit outlaws_ in the building and you're going to need to clear them out as fast as possible. The squad that does this the fastest gets two days of leave. Be wary of any shenanigans that Seymour may have put in place, specifically arcane and traditional booby-traps."

"Shenanigans he says?" One of the men of Azure Squad joked, slapping a buddy on the shoulder. "I wonder what sort of Shenanigans Seymour could bring out..."

"Well our shenanigans are cheeky and fun." One of the members of the same squad said, shrugging.

"Seymour's Shenanigans are cruel and tragic." Another man from Azure said, nodding sagely.

"Which makes them not Shenanigans at all, really." An Azure woman said, chuckling softly.

"_Evil Shenanigans_!" The first man said, with a goofy accent.

"I swear to god!" Vorscham snarled, a blood vessel pulsing on his forehead. "I will bludgeon the next motherfucker who says shenanigans with my sheath!" A moment of silence followed as Vorscham glared down at his platoon.

The man who had faked the accent let a smile creep onto his face. "Hey Jimmy! What's the name of that pub you like, you know, the one with all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?"

"You mean Shenanigan's?" A faceless voice called from somewhere in the back of Ivory team.

"Oh shit!" There was a hearty round of laughter and egging on as one of the men from Azure company tried to offer his sheath to Lieutenant Vorscham.

"Put those away!" Vorscham snarled.

"Why we're out this far then, LT?" A soldier growled as the platoon calmed down amid the good natured laughing and ribbing that Jimmy received. "How exactly are we going to practice a siege against the palace down here? Shouldn't we be up at the palace for that?"

"Can your crap, shitbirds, and I'll explain it." Vorscham growled, shaking his head. He frowned and looked around the group as some grumbling faded through the area, but silence finally fell. "Good. Our unit was _selected_ by the king to give a demonstration of the speed and strength of the Demacian forces in reaction to a hostile takeover of a structure or building within the city, specifically the palace, hence why you see the building behind you. It is a prefabricated structure that will simulate a floor layout. You'll notice the roof is glass. That is for the spectators to see how efficient and fearless you are. Be careful of this glass. While impact resistant, you are permitted to use assault-grade magic, and will be facing similar levels in the form of resistance. Be careful with your aim. There will be dignitaries from Piltover and Ionia who are interested in our Military tactics visiting, they are our main audience. We'll be exercising the very finest of Demacian precision and safety." He paused, waiting for questions. "No questions? Good. Split up by squad, Azure, Gold and Ivory squads on the line, in that order. Check your gear, keep it tight, and report any problems with equipment to Gunny Juniper BEFORE the exercise begins. Dismissed."

The group broke up by squad, each squad leader moving their unit off to talk about tactics and to designate positions for each member of the squad, leaving Shyvana standing off to one side of the muddy, open area. She glanced around, frowning slightly before sighing heavily, looking down at the muddy snow under foot. She stepped up to Lieutenant Vorscham who was talking with Gunny Juniper.

"Got anything special planned sir? Need me to scrounge anything up?" Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at Shyvana as she approached, but Vorscham's dark gaze froze her and drained her happiness from her expression.

"Nothing at the moment." Vorscham said, matching Alicia's salute. "Dismissed." Alicia spun on her heel and headed off to distribute the last few things each squad would need, including basic floor plans of the building. Shyvana could tell that Alicia's pace was much slower than her normal, bouncy rate that matched her attitude. She glanced worriedly over her shoulder at Shyvana, but the dragoness gave her a brave smile. Vorscham turned back to Shyvana. "What can I do for you, specialist?"

"What Squad shall I be attached to for this exercise, sir?" Shyvana asked, standing at parade rest.

"None." Vorscham said, turning away. "I want you by my side for now."

"Sir?" Shyvana said hesitantly.

"I don't want any incidents with this bloody show and tell session." He growled, shaking his head. "There is too much as risk, and I have enough shit to concern myself with at the moment. I don't need you blowing something up in the meantime."

Shyvana clenched her fists but simply nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Vorscham growled. "For now, you are a shadow. Stick with me, but don't say anything."

"Sir." She saluted and then dropped it.

"Positions, ladies and gents, we've got guests!" Vorscham shouted. The platoon turned and looked, watching as a small party approached down the hill towards the podium.

Shyvana could see the king leading the way, a number of guards around him, a few Demacian officers, and then two women who she didn't recognize. One was dressed in a officious looking purple overcoat and a matching top hat, her long, chestnut brown hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked stern but polite, her attire pretty but odd compared to most clothing styles that Shyvana had ever seen. The other was a much sterner looking woman, slightly taller, and the small gap that the others all gave her spoke of a mix of respect and fear of the woman. Even from where she stood, Shyvana could tell she had hard eyes that matched her frown as the teal orbs glanced about the area, canvasing and taking in new surroundings. She had shimmering black hair, but the way it had an eerie blue sheen when the light hit it wasn't the strangest thing about her. Floating just behind and above her, something glimmering bounced along with her strides, twitching occasionally, similar to a cat's tail. Shyvana watched the many pointed, floating crest with interest as the Demacian troops finished milling about, lining up by squad around the building, each waiting their turn.

"And now a demonstration by my own Royal Guard Battalion." The king said, gesturing towards the soldiers. "Here we have a special building set up to allow us to view their progress as they expertly assault an enemy fortified structure."

"That's not an exceedingly difficult task, your highness." The woman in the top hat said, frowning, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If I may, your highness?" Major Seymour stepped forth from the side and looked to the king.

"This is Major James Seymour, the commander of Victoria company. His unit is currently on rotation with the Palace guard for training. It's his men that will be running through the exercise today." The king gestured to the thin man, his pasty skin a bit gaunt over his sharp cheekbones. He was lanky and the armor he wore hardly seemed to fit this image. His hair was slicked back and beady eyes darted around. Though he frowned, the king gestured for the major to continue.

"Madame Sheriff of Piltover, despite your _extensive_ list of apprehensions and the amazingly clean history of Piltover under your protection, it's not just the fact they can clear the building, it's how fast they clear it. Demacia, despite the beauty and grace we value in our city, value different ideals when it comes to our military tactics. My unit here is going to show how our motto of 'shock and awe' defines the way our forces sweep in a take the enemies by surprise, bringing the hammer down to crush the opposition in a single blow before they have a chance to form any sort of resistance." The major said confidently. "How long would it take your deputies to clear out a structure such as this?"

The sheriff raised her eyebrow, the golden star gleaming on the lapel of her coat. "A few minutes, I suppose." She frowned. "Though there are many other circumstances to take into consideration for an operation like this. For example, if there were civilians in danger within, it would be much more difficult to deal with; a standard breach and clear procedure would likely end in the loss of life. I would probably put marksmen in place to pick off anyone who put others in danger and then try to talk down those holed up inside."

"But what if they were threatening to set off a bomb?" The major said, a small smile playing at his lips as he ran a hand over his hair to smooth it down. "Our troops are able to push through in just a fraction of the time other units can attempt. My force reacts faster, hits harder, and hits more often due to the rigorous training and practice regimes they adhere to under my command. This exercise is only one of the many different things that our troops are drilled in, but this is something that is very flexible, adaptable to hundreds of situations. In this case, the simulated hostiles have taken over a structure and need to be quickly cleared out to allow our forces to advance."

"And they are going to assault a building with a bomb inside to clear it out?" The other woman said. "It hardly seems to be the best answer to a bad situation."

"Please, humor this poor officer for trying to put it in better perspective." The major said, bowing slightly. "Madame Ambassador, I didn't mean to create a bad setting, but the execution will be more than worth it. Though we lack the _grace_ that the warriors of Ionia are renowned for, we are more than efficient and swift fighters here in Demacia."

"Thank you, major." The king said, cutting the officer off before he could continue. "We'll be turning the demonstration over to one of the Major's subordinates; his platoon was chosen at random for the exercise."

"Very well, your highness." The woman said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And Major, please excuse my questions, I didn't mean to cause any trouble with my lack of _grace."_

"It is quite alright." The king said with a quick nod, cutting the major off before he could open his mouth and make more of an ass out of himself. The king sighed internally, but turned to where Vorscham stood below at parade rest. "Lieutenant?"

"Sir." He snapped off a quick salute and then spun to face his troops. "Azure squad, to the line"

"Move, move, move!" Bruno bellowed. His unit moved up like a single body, the two parallel lines rotating and hitting the wall with enough force to shake the entire building. "Stack up!" The soldiers compressed towards the door, the two closest turning their back to the door. "Prep for penetration!" Bruno barked. The third man on the right side of the door stepped out, spun, and pulled a metal plate that hung from his pack, and pushed it to the door, close to the lock and handle.

"The squads with be running a time trial to give them a bit of competitive motivation." The king said with a smile. "Whenever you're ready, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir." Vorscham said, saluting. He pulled a small time tracking device from his belt and shook it. It began to shimmer and little numbers glowed to life above it. "Azure, you are clear to initiate!"

"Roger sir!" Bruno barked, checking over his people. "Breach, breach, breach!" The timer started as the command came. The fizzle and the sharp report of a magic explosion shattered the door inwards, sending the solider sliding backwards a few feet in the mud. He dropped the steaming metal plate as the first two knights, in full armor, slammed through the remains of the door and swept inside, taking the first two targets with swings of their swords, lopping the top half of the 'enemies' off. The wooden posts fell over, the paper targets falling away.

"Move in!" Bruno said, following the soldiers in. "Fireteam Jaeger, right side, Fireteam Kampfer, left!" The squad split as they moved through the building at a thundering pace, sometimes simply bowling through walls rather than going around corners. The two lead soldiers, clad in hulking, lumbering armor simply thundered through the gauntlet, the booby traps barely scratching the surface of their armor. Though crude and destructive, the tactic was brutally efficient and the forces that swept in behind the two wrecking balls were able to easily clean up the targets that were left over. The 'enemies' fell rapidly, and as a minute approached on the clock, the last bang of a breaching charge spread smoke and debris in the back room. Soldiers poured in, cutting down the foes with impunity.

"Clear!" The call echoed from within, and Vorscham hit the timer.

"Fifty-seven seconds, and all thirty targets taken out." Vorscham reported.

"That was fairly impressive, your highness." The Ionian Ambassador said nodding, a small smile on her face. "But do you think your other squads can beat the time?"

"Indeed, I'm curious if they'll use the same rush tactics." The sheriff of Piltover mused.

"Of course." The king said, nodding and gesturing for Vorscham to continue. "Up next is Gold Squad."

The two subsequent squads, Gold and Ivory, went about as well as the Azure team's breach and clear. Gold used a similar tactic to Azure, but instead of soldiers in heavy armor, they used two large shield bearers to muscle through and form a sort of pseudo-phalanx to protect the soldiers who followed. Though decidedly safer, it was also a decent amount slower, considering some of the maneuvering it took to get the shields around obstacles in the building. The sheriff had preferred this method because it was fairly defensive and caused the least amount of damage, but the clumsy shields seemed to bore the ambassador. Ivory mixed things up by putting smaller breaching teams around the perimeter to go in windows, but a moment of confusion when they tried unsuccessfully to disarm a trap cost them the first place spot. The Ionian Ambassador had been amused with their tactics and ingenuity, and had bargained they had lost a full ten seconds because of the one moment of confusion. The times were comparable but Azure team's brute force attack had the best clear speed by about ten seconds.

"And that completes the demonstration, your majesty." Vorscham said, snapping off a quick salute. "As you can see, our forces are all highly capable and extremely disciplined, while not limited in their tactical thinking or improvisation in a bad situation. They are very capable of independent action and even in the worst of situations, they are capable of crushing any resistance."

"Very good, lieutenant." The king said, eying the man's scar for a moment as he turned to the major. "My compliments on your platoon, major, their performance was smooth and well executed."

"Thank you, sire." Major Seymour said, bowing gracefully. "I keep my company at peek performance levels, consistently ensuring the absolute best. Their times certainly reflected this capability."

"I could done it quicker." Shyvana muttered to herself as she rolled her eyes as what the major said. Vorscham glanced at her and frowned, but said nothing. The sheriff of Piltover seemed to have heard though and met Shyvana's gaze for a brief moment.

"A question for the Major, King Jarvan." The diplomat from Piltover said with a a nod of the head. Her long brown hair fell into her eyes, and she had to brush it out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear.

"Of course, Sheriff." The king said, slightly surprised. Shyvana watched his eyes change from a menacing dark blue to a placid icy color before the sheriff could notice. "Please, what is your question?"

The sheriff of Piltover looked down and locked gazes with Shyvana for a brief moment. "Major, the young woman there... she doesn't seem to be an officer. Why was she excluded from the actions? It didn't seem as though any of the assault teams were understrength."

A flash of concern and danger flashed over Seymour's face. "Well, uh..."

"This is a recent addition to the unit, Madame Sheriff." Vorscham said firmly, heading the problem off before it could manifest for the major to complicate. "She has yet to have a chance to be integrated to one of the squads of second platoon of Victoria Company, and as such, her ah... special capabilities are reserved for more... _unique_ missions than this." Shyvana glanced at Vorscham, clenching her fists.

_In three days of training, I've out run, out fought and stomped every challenge you've thrown at me, Vorscham. _Shyvana clenched her teeth and had to take several deep breaths to calm herself as she felt her hair begin to bounce in the heat that poured from her body.

"Unique talents?" The Ionian Ambassador said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't mean to sound so... _barbaric_, but would these special abilities be something that could benefit Ionia's rebuilding or possible resistance? With the Noxian-Ionian rematch coming up so soon, we may be calling upon Demacia to assist if things go... _poorly._.."

"And you, Ambassador, considering what is on the line, for you to come here with the battle approaching so soon must mean there is something you would wish of Demacia." The king said amicably. "You don't mean to go to war if the rematch fails, do you?"

The floating crest behind her shuddered, the metal twitching as if it were irritated as something dangerous flashed in her eyes. She smoothed a lock of black hair along the side of her chest, freeing it from where it had caught on her red and silver armor. Her hair had an eerie blue sheen too it that shimmered when the light hit it right. "Your majesty, I merely am curious about the strengths of Demacia and her champions were the situation in Ionia or Kalamanda to... _escalate._"

"You say she has special capabilities." The sheriff of Piltover said, nodding in conjunction with the ambassador of Ionia. "Perhaps a demonstrationcould be arranged?"

The king looked hesitant, but a small smile settled on his face. "Very well." He nodded finally. "Shyvana, if you could demonstrate what it is you are?"

"What she is?" The Piltoverian and Ionian representatives said in tandem, exchanging glances.

"I'm not simply an animal for you to showcase when you want." Shyvana snarled, turning towards the building with a frown. "But if I gets me closer to my goal I shall oblige." She muttered under her breath.

"I..." The king blinked several times but was left speechless.

"Lieutenant, the goal was to clear the building as quickly as possible, correct?" Shyvana said, a frown marring her face as her hair began to billow around her. She pulled the winter cloak off of her shoulders and gently laid it on the ground, kicking off the armored grieves and pulling snaps and straps free. Her armor clattered to the ground around her and she tossed it into a pile near the cloak. As she stepped into the snow, it began to steam around her feet

"Correct..." Vorscham said, a look of surprise on his face.

"No armor at all?" The Ionian said, the crest nearly quivering in excitement.

"My skin is thicker than you think." Shyvana said, pausing and looking over her shoulder, her hair now standing vertically on end, streaming wildly as it was carried up by the rising heat the poured from her body. "Your majesty, in the supposed situation that was given to the squads by the major, were there any survivors inside that needed to be protected?"

"Well..." The king said, frowning, still trying to figure out what she was planning. He glanced at major who simply shrugged. "No..."

"Good." Shyvana said as a grin settled on her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath, steam jetting from her nostrils. She grasped at her head and shrunk down a bit, snarling as pain played across her face. Horns burst from her skull, extending and curving back, each one gleaming and razor sharp at the tip. Shyvana stood up straight and then looked over her shoulder at the ambassadors and the king, diamond shaped pupils gleaming. "Watch closely, now." Fire exploded around her and then a billowing cloud of steam erupted, casting an eerie haze over the area, obscuring all vision.

"What... what was that?" The sheriff said, waving the steam from her face. She leaned on the railing of the podium, trying to peer through the steam. "Those eyes and horns... is she some kind of demon?"

"I don't know." The Ionian Ambassador said, coughing as the crest continued to quiver. "Your highness... just what is it you're playing at? What was—is she?"

"This wasn't exactly planned in advance, Ambassador." The king said, sighing. The ground shook beneath their feet, the entire podium shaking slightly. "So please, try to remain calm."

"What was that?" The sheriff gasped, her arm jumping to her shoulder, grasping for a weapon, but finding nothing. She started to kneel but the king gestured for her to calm herself, holding onto the railing as the ground reverberated every few seconds.

"I present to you... Shyvana, the half-dragon." The king said, gesturing to the ground before them.

Rising out of the steam was the scaly hide and vicious claws of a dragon. Leathery skin was covered in places with armored scales, the glossy armor gleaming against the white snow. A mane of ruby red hair lined the dragon's back and massive wings quivered, folded back out of the way, her massive claws cutting deep furrows in the ground as she took several steps forward. Powerful hind legs lifted her up till her head was level with the podium, her magenta eyes blinking as she turned, diamond pupils dilating slightly as she looked at the sheriff and then the ambassador.

"Goddess above..." The ambassador said, the metal crest quivering violently behind her. She took a half a step backwards. "A dragon..."

"And she fights for you?" The sheriff said uneasily, pulling herself to her feet. The dragon's gaze fell onto her, and she crossed her arms over her chest, backing away slowly till the ran into the railing behind her. "She won't... attack?"

"Hardly." Shyvana rumbled. The sheriff started and looked surprised, but she straightened herself up, trying to regain some of her dignity. She straightened her top hat on her head.

"She does fight for me." The king said firmly. Shyvana moved her head closer to him, fitting him with a glare as two jets of steam escaped her nostrils menacingly, her diamond pupils slimming as she growled. The king frowned but sighed. "She fights for my son, the prince, more accurately. He recruited her not too long ago and she is being integrated into our forces cautiously. We've not had a properly place for her to be assigned, but Lieutenant Vorscham expressed his desire to try and train her. With the major's permission I had her assigned here for the time being."

"That's quite impressive, though." The ambassador said, a slight frown crossing her face. "And here I had thought all the dragons in Valoran had retreated beyond the reach of humanity. To see a living, breathing descendant of a dragon like this..." She started to reach out towards Shyvana but Shyvana shrunk back just a bit. The ambassador frowned but dropped her hand, understanding the dragon's caution. "She—you are a magnificent creature regardless, but I have a question: how do you expect to clear a building or a room like that? You could never fit through the door."

"Watch and see." Shyvana rumbled, forestalling any further comment from the podium as she dropped away, heading towards the door of the prefabricated structure. Every step caused the ground to rumble beneath her. "Ready?" The lieutenant frowned but lifted the timer. Shyvana paused outside the door and then glanced at the podium, a wicked grin pulling her chops back to reveal massive fangs. She reared her head back and sucked in a deep breath, her chest starting to glow a bright orange as it expanded.

"Cover!" Vorscham shouted, sending his men diving to the ground.

Shyvana released a pillar of fire into the prefabricated structure that crumbled the inner walls and incinerated the entire contents of the structure. A few seconds passed as she poured fire into the structure in a steady stream, the rolling orange flames filling the entirety of the building. The roof began to billow and then it sagged as the windows around each side failed, exploding outwards with a stream of fire billowing into the air on each side. Shyvana sat back with a smirk on her face as the sound of tinkling glass and the burning building filled the air.

"Seven... seconds..." Vorscham said, glancing at the timer, his mouth hanging open.

As the dignitaries and the officials watched in awe, she slunk back and grabbed the winter coat in her jaw and lifted it, turning to look at the podium one last time before she engulfed the ground around around in flames, sending up another thick cloud of steam. Shyvana emerged from the cloud of steam several moments later clad in only the heavy winter cloak and grieves. Silence followed, only punctuated by the pop and crackle of the burning building.

The ambassador began to clap, slowly at first, but the pace picked up when the sheriff joined as well, followed by the other officers. Though the king did not clap, for the first time, Shyvana saw something in his eyes besides ice or anger. _Approval? _She bowed as best she could, her knees shaking slightly as the applause died away.

"That was incredible." The ambassador said with a small smile as she looked down at the red headed woman, meeting her magenta gaze for a few moments.

"T-that was both incredible and terrifying." The Piltover Sheriff said, shaking her head. "So many bad guys, so little time. I've never quite seen a display of force like that. Definitely awe inspiring, definitely scary."

"I've seen something similar." The ambassador from Ionia said, shaking her long hair out as the crest behind her settled, though its movements were still jerky, showing her excitement. "The Noxian War machine with their Zaunite Melters in Ionia had a similar effect. They were brutally efficient and terrifying... though her flames can cleanse rather than simply destroy. The very memory sends chills up my spine. I don't know if I should be afraid or I should congratulate you on your powerful ally, your highness."

"Thank you." The king mused, frowning as Shyvana glared up at him defiantly, smoothing his beard with a hand as he glanced away, obviously shaken. "I think. With the demonstration concluded, we can return to the palace. Unless you ladies have any questions?"

"I would like to meet the half-dragon, this Shyvana." The Ionian Ambassador said. "If possible?"

"I'll see what can be arranged, ma'am." Major Seymour said, his face clearly drained of what little color it had.

"I think our schedule is a bit tight with the additional demonstration." The king said, coughing into his hand. "I'm sure it could be arranged another time. If you'll follow me back to the palace..." The party retreated back up the hill, leaving second platoon alone as engineers stood speechless as they watched the fire burn.

"That was ballsy as all hell." Vorscham shook his head as he looked to where Shyvana smiled, obviously quite pleased with herself.

"I thought you would approve of my unorthodox tactics, sir." She said nodding. Shyvana stepped towards him, holding the cloak closed with one hand and then holding the other out towards him. "I'll be taking that two day pass, lieutenant."

"Yeah... uh, here you go." Vorscham said, depositing the piece of paper into her hand with an absent look as he watched one of the walls of the prefabricated structure collapse. The glass on the prefab structure shattered inwards, and he could only shake his head, looking down at the timer. "That _was_ fast."


	12. Chapter 11: Juniper

Shyvana frowned as she settled into a fighting stance, dropping a bit lower and spreading her feet out a bit further than she was used to. Shyvana frowned as she flexed her fists, trying to run through what Vorscham had told her about her fighting.

_Power is also necessary for putting enemies down but you must put them down quickly, swiftly, and with as little effort as possible. Drawn out fights, especially when you're not in the advantageous position often leave you tired and being tired leads to being dead. Using too much striking power is a waste of time and energy._ _It also leaves you open to counterattacks. _

"So if I go too hard, I actually put myself in more danger then what I can actually return to the aggressor, right?" Shyvana mused under her breath, standing up straight. She bounced from foot to foot briefly, trying to shake out the discomfort she felt with the change of fighting stance. She looked down at her foot and frowned; she liked a fairly narrow stance because it was easier to accelerate herself in different directions with her flames along a narrower base, and it allowed her to react quicker. She growled just a bit as the disgrace she had suffered at the hands of Vorscham played through her mind again. Her narrow stance had left her open to getting knocked around, as Vorscham had proved to her in their fight. She spread her feet apart in the dirt and then stepped from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable on her feet. She slunk a bit lower and then put one foot forward, her armored boots crunching in the frosty mud.

_You must be ready to disengage and reengage to try and maintain an upper hand at all times. Being able to react quickly to an adverse situation is the most essential part of a neutral ready stance, but you must be able to do so without sacrificing stability._

Shyvana raised both hand in front of her face in a defensive stance and took a step forward, striking at the wooden training dummy in front of her. There was a dull thud as she struck the dummy, but it only reverberated for a few brief moment before it fell still frowned, looking at her fist as she reset her feet and held one arm in front of her defensively, and let the other arm sink back behind her, rising up just a bit. She let the forward arm sink just a bit and then started to shift back and forth from foot to foot. She had used this stance in her last training session with Vorscham, but he had criticized it as weak in defense and offense, limiting her range of defensive motions, and limiting her number of striking options. Despite his protests, Shyvana found the stance comfortable, allowing her to react to a number of different attacks defensively, and it allowed her to strike harder without any draw time. Combined with her flames and the little bit of testing she had done, the power and flexibility the stance offered favored her aggressive style of fighting.

_I have more strength and surprises available to me than Vorscham can imagine._ Shyvana exhaled testily, letting fire consume her hands for a few moments, before it disappeared again only moments later. Shyvana had been working on her mastery of her flames, and weaving it into her fighting style was starting to pay dividends in her practice. _I'm not simply human, I can really on my draconian heritage as well._

_Shyvana, if you could demonstrate what it is you are?_

Shyvana felt her cheeks begin to burn as a different memory cut through her mind. The king had treated her like an animal: something to be showcased and displayed when convenient. She shook her head and tried to return to her drills, continuing to refine the training that Vorscham had given her.

_Blind aggression leads to defeat, but no aggression leads to defeat as well. When there is any unknown factor in a fight, the advantage can be rapidly manipulated to your favor or against you. The fewer surprises the better._

Shyvana struggled as she tried to calm herself, checking her footing and then putting her arms back to where she had found them comfortable, one in front and one behind her body. She took a deep breath, held it for a brief moment, and then exhaled. Shyvana snarled as she struck out, the king's words slipping into her mind like a parasite as she poured power into her strike.

The training dummy exploded in a cloud of smoke and flaming wooden shards, leaving a bare and blackened stump where the wooden training dummy had once stood.

Shyvana's chest heaved as she stared at the ground, trying to control her ragged breathing and her temper as it flared. The small wooden chips from the eviscerated target fluttered down around her like snow. Some landed on her head and shoulders and began to smolder and then fully caught fire, burning away to smoke and ash. Shyvana watched as one settled on her still outstretched arm, the small wooden chip catching fire and rapidly burning away, the ash was blown away by a gust of wind that swept through the courtyard. She lowered her hands to her sides as she tried to calm her temper, flames spluttering along the ground, deep black scars accepting the steps she had taken into the strike. She took a deep breath and extinguished the flames that still danced around her legs, shivering as the icy wind cut through and caressed her body.

_What you are..._ Shyvana shook her head, trying to banish the niggling through that plagued her mind.

"Shyvana?" Alicia stopped on the path that was closest to where the dragoness had been training. Shyvana looked over, surprised that someone was still in the empty barracks. "I almost didn't see you there. Why are you out here alone?"

"Oh, hi June." Shyvana said, blinking a few times and then shaking her head, trying to get rid of the thoughts she had been having. "Just... working off some stress."

"The major gave the company the day off though, you can go relax if you want. I'm sure there are much more relaxing ways to get rid of stress." Alicia frowned as she set down the few file folders she had been holding and pulled her canteen from her belt, holding it out for Shyvana.

"Thanks." Shyvana said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip of the water. "I don't know..." She shrugged, sighing heavily. "I don't really know how to relax, I guess. I feel restless when I sit around doing nothing alone."

"Here, have a seat." Alicia said, gesturing to the low wall that separated the path from the courtyard. The sky was overcast and Shyvana let off steam with every huff of breath, the chill in the air starting to get worse as the sweat on her body cooled.

"I should get back to training." Shyvana said, starting to screw the cap on the canteen back into place, ignoring the gesture towards the wall.

"Don't make me pull rank on you." Alicia said with a smile that was meant to offset the worry in her face and eyes. Shyvana could see both, and shrugged, sighing. She flopped down on the low wall and ran her hands over her face, wiping away the sweat. "Now tell me: what's bothering you?"

"I don't feel right being here." Shyvana said hesitantly, staring down at the muddy snow that had been pushed up against the low wall. Some of it had melted over the past few days but it had frozen again the night before, hard as rock. "I'm not like you or anyone else. I feel out of place."

"Well that's just not right." Alicia said, sitting on the stone wall. "Everyone is out right now, partying and enjoying the day off, and yet here you are, all alone. No wonder you feel out of place." Alicia smiled as Shyvana glanced ruefully at her. "Victoria company is a tight knit group of men and women who serve together and protect the palace. There are plenty of people who don't really fit in, so why should you be any different? Why not be out there enjoying yourself and getting to know people?"

"Maybe because I'm half dragon?" Shyvana said, rolling her eyes. She glowered, letting her shoulders sink as she leaned her forearms on her knees, fidgeting with a short piece of leather strapping on her gauntlet. "Everyone tries to make it seem like they're not afraid, but I can see through that. They don't want my company." Shyvana shook her head. "I can tell how cautious everyone is, especially after what I did this morning. They used to just give me a bit of extra space, but now they avoid me like the plague."

"That's not true." Alicia said, shaking her head. "You're just imagining that! They respect you and they simply don't understand you, Shyvana. I'm sure if you tried to reach out to others in the unit there wouldn't be any issues."

"I wish it were that simple." Shyvana said, glumly. "But everyone is too afraid to even speak to me!" She clenched her fists. "I try to approach someone to even ask a question or I ask for directions and they just look at me like I'm some sort of freak."

"Shyvana..." Alicia said, frowning deeply.

"I'm sorry, June, I'm just not feeling too good right now." Shyvana said, shaking her head as she got to her feet.

"Well, how about this," Alicia said as she stood up as well, posting her hands on her hips with a smile. "I'll treat you to dinner and desert this evening."

"Huh?" Shyvana said, taken aback as Alicia's smile grew.

"I know of a cute little cafe in the merchant district we can go get takeout from." Alicia said, nodding to herself. "They have delicious pastries and sandwiches. We can go get some food and bring it back to the barracks if you like and just talk." Shyvana blushed and glanced away. "I'll show you a great way to relax."

"But why would you want to do that with the likes of me?" Shyvana said, nervously, running a hand along her arm. "Shouldn't you be enjoying yourself with all of your friends?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Alicia said, taking Shyvana by the arm and steering her towards the barracks. "This is what friends do for friends who aren't feeling good. They try to cheer each other up. Now come on, I don't want any protesting from you."

"But..." Shyvana tried to say.

"Nope!" Alicia said with an infectious grin. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we can get some dinner, and then you can tell me more about yourself." Alicia wore a pixie faced grin as she leaned in towards the dragoness. "And you can give me the low down on the prince, too. As big as his hands are..." She winked at Shyvana.

Shyvana's face turned beet red and steam poured off the top of her head. "But I-I... We haven't-..."

"Oh?" Alicia said with a devious grin. "You two haven't gone that far quite yet? For some reason I don't quite believe that. I believe I managed to worm that fact out of you last time we had this conversation."

Shyvana looked to the floor and mumbled a few words. "Well... I mean we have, but-..."

"Good!" Alicia said, bouncing ahead of Shyvana and continue to wear her pixie grin. "Admitting it happened is the first step to embracing your lover. Speaking of embracing, I'll give you some tips and tricks on how to please the prince. First off: blow jobs and lingerie. Guys LOVE that sort of thing."

"June, keep it down!" Shyvana said trying to catch up to the white haired gunnery officer as she twirled away, giggling hysterically as she pranced about. Shyvana looked distraught as she chased her through the halls towards her quarters, Alicia giggling maniacally the entire way as she bounced along, just out of Shyvana's reach.

"And there are two ways to a man's heart: through his pants and his stomach." Alicia stopped, spun and glared at Shyvana with a smug grin. "And for some reason, I doubt that you know anything about cooking _or_ sex. You're cute, but it's not just about looking good. There's plenty of technique involved as well."

"June!" Shyvana begged as the gunny bounced out of her grasp again, continuing to dance from toe to toe just out of reach. "Please! What if someone hears you?"

"So what if they do?" Alicia said with a goofy grin. "You'll have the prince wrapped around your finger when I get done with you, just have him punish them!" Alicia's grin darkened a bit as she leaned in and whispered, "Or maybe you'd like to have him punish you? Rawr." She made the motion of a cat's paw as it scratched with one hand and then had to bounce away as Shyvana lunged at her.

"Oooo, I'm so going to make you pay for that, June." Shyvana growled as she came to a stop outside her quarters.

"It'll have to wait till later." Alicia said with a sly grin, waggling her finger at Shyvana nose as the disgruntled half-dragon crossed her arms over her chest and pouted angrily. "Go ahead and get cleaned up and changed. I'm going to go change my clothes and then we can go and get food, okay?" Shyvana puffed out a cheek and frowned but nodded. "Good. I'll see you in twenty minutes, then!" She pranced away, waving to Shyvana as she went.

"Huh? Hey, June, that's not enough time!" Shyvana said, looking at the clock at the end of the hall.

"Better hurry then!" Alicia waved and then disappeared around a corner. Shyvana's eyebrow twitched for a brief moment but she sighed and then looked at the clock again.

"Well, I better get started." Shyvana said as she opened the door to her room.

* * *

The remnants of dinner, mostly colorful checkered paper and cardboard boxes littered the table in Shyvana's room. Her clothes lay on the floor in a heap, the dragoness retreating to something more comfortable for the evening. A large paper bag sat on the table and the soft lantern light flickered around the room.

"So what are you going to do with your days off?" Alicia said as she sat beside Shyvana on her bed, a broad smile on her face. Alicia pulled her feet under her as she sat up, wearing a loose fitting tunic and a pair of soft knit trousers. She smiled as Shyvana blushed and glanced down at the surface of her bed. Shyvana wore a broad smile of her own as she kicked her legs out and leaned back, laying out along the bed. Her cheeks were pink, glowing as if she were thinking about someone special. "Runeterra to Shyvana... Hello, Shyvana?" Alicia leaned over in front of Shyvana, looking at the half dragon with a quizzical expression on her face. "Oh I get it." Alicia spun away and laced her fingers behind her head, glancing over her shoulder at the dragoness with a knowing grin. "You're thinking about the prince, aren't you?"

"Wha-...?" Shyvana sat bolt upright, blushing furiously. She shook her hands in front of herself nervously. "No, no I'm not... I mean..." Steam poured from Shyvana's head as she looked away nervously, mumbling quietly to herself.

"I knew it." Alicia said, giggling softly. She shook her long, snowy hair out behind her and then shrugged. "It's written all over your face what you want to do with these two days." Alicia winked at Shyvana and nudged her in the side, grinning from ear to ear. The dragoness's face turned the same shade of red as her hair, steam erupting from her ears.

"Oooo..." Shyvana said, shaking her head to try and clear her mind. "I mean... maybe..." She poked the tips of her index fingers together innocently, tucking her arms into her sides.

Alicia smiled and giggled, wearing a sly grin. "I believe the topic I was addressing earlier involved ways to drive the prince up the wall. Or at least crazy with lust, right?"

"June, I don't know if we're really at a stage of our relationship where I should be thinking about stuff like that." Shyvana said, blushing.

"You slept with him once, right?" Alicia said, laughing as Shyvana blushed furiously but nodded. "Well there you go. You're at that stage." Alicia sighed happily, taking a deep pull off of her ale, and then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She uncorked the bottle and then refilled her cup, offer more to Shyvana, who nodded. Alicia filled Shyvana's cup and then set the bottle back on the table. "Hell, if you're nervous, you can always just get him drunk." Alicia said with a grin. "You drink like a sailor."

"I think being only half dragon means the alcohol is only half as effective." Shyvana said, shrugging as she sipped the ale. "It's only a theory though."

"Well that's not fun." Alicia said, shaking her head. Shyvana set her cup down and then stretched her arms above her head, yawning. "Well, if you don't want to try and get him drunk you could always use these!" Alicia wrapped her arms around Shyvana as she stretched and grabbed her chest, causing the dragoness to yelp in surprise.

"June!" Shyvana said, blushing furiously again. "What are you doing!?"

"You're always hiding such a sexy body under your armor and frumpy clothes. And you're always pouting!" Alicia said, giggling manically as she felt Shyvana's chest. She dropped her hands and began to tickle the dragoness. "Imagine if the prince could see these! I'm sure your love problems wouldn't exist!" Shyvana laughed , struggling against Alicia, but she was already in tears she was laughing so hard.

"EEK!" Shyvana yelped again, trying to form words in between bouts of intense giggling and laughter. "Let go of me! Alicia!" Shyvana whined as she tried to get away, but Alicia laughed maniacally, continuing to tease the dragoness, watching as Shyvana squirmed about, laughing hysterically now. Shyvana grabbed a pillow and tried to hold it over her stomach to prevent the tickling, but Alicia wasn't going to be stopped by a bit of fabric and down feathers.

"Not until you cheer up!" Alicia said as she watched tears of laughter run down the dragoness's face.

"I can hardly breath!" Shyvana gasped as she flopped about. "It hurts to smile so much! Please!"

"NEVER!" Alicia announced with a broad smile, wriggling her fingers as she gave Shyvana a brief moment of respite to gain her breath. She was lowering her hands down towards Shyvana stomach again when a knock came at the door, interrupting Alicia. She frowned as she sat back, Shyvana gasping for breath as she used the distraction to escape, clambering to her feet. She blushed furiously as she tried to straighten her tunic, her chest heaving as her face nearly purple from a mix of blushing too hard and a lack of air from laughing so much. Shyvana glared at Alicia with a gaze that mixed immense hatred with glee, the dragoness obviously suffering as she tried to appear angry. Alicia shrugged and gave Shyvana an innocent smile, as if to say 'I didn't do anything'. Alicia closed her eyes with a cocky smile, daring Shyvana to do something back.

_WHUMP!_

Shyvana huffed, shaking her head as she straightened her hair and her tunic, stepping away from the bed as a few feathers fluttered down through the air around her. "I'm not expecting anyone." Alicia said as she pried the pillow from her face. Picking herself up from where she had been knocked backwards onto the bed, grinning sheepishly. She was still trying desperately to appear as if nothing had happened, but the pillow to the face had ended all serious attempts at that. Shyvana's glare turned to a smile and then she giggled a bit, laughing as Alicia pulled down feathers from her hair.

"Neither am I." Shyvana replied, slightly out of breath, a grin on her face. She paused and checked her appearance in the mirror. Shorts that dropped to mid thigh, tied off and a baggy tunic that fell off one shoulder. She frowned, hardly thinking it appropriate to answer the door like this but she shook her head to try and straighten her hair and opened the door.

"Pardon me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The voice was calm and serene, but it was firm and refined as well. Clad in the white and black uniform of one of the palace maids, the woman bowed and smiled politely. Black hair and blue eyes partially hidden behind glasses glimmered in the dim light of the barracks hallway, a solider standing off to the side. "Are you miss Shyvana?" She asked politely. Shyvana glanced from the woman to her escort, a heavily armored palace guardsman and then back to the woman.

"Yes." Shyvana nodded once, trying to regain some modicum of dignity that had been lost to Alicia. "How can I help you?"

"I, well my master, has a request." The maid said bowing politely. "She would like to arrange a meeting with you sometime over the next few days if you were available."

"Um, well..." Shyvana said nervously. Something seemed vaguely familiar about the maid, but Shyvana couldn't place exactly what it was. "I don't know if I can-..."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself!" The maid said, bowing again. "How rude of me. My name is Noel Halsington."

Shyvana's eyes grew slightly wider. "You're Noel?" She said excitedly, a smile slipping onto her face. "I've heard so much about you."

Noel looked surprised. "You have?" Noel blinked several times, her glasses shimmering as she looked at the dragoness.

"Jarvan told me a stories about you." Shyvana said, nodding. Noel pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and they shimmered ominously in the candle light, obscuring her piercing blue eyes for a few moments before she leaned forward.

"Oh did he now?" She said sternly. Shyvana laughed for a moment and then nodded again.

"Don't worry, they were all good things." Shyvana said gesturing inside. "Would you like to come in?"

"No, thank you." Noel said, letting her expression return to that of a polite smile. "I have some other business I must attend to after this. But I would like to extend my master's invitation again. They would very much like to meet and have lunch with you if you're available."

"Well..." Shyvana stammered.

"Go ahead." Alicia said, grinning. "You have tomorrow free so you might as well, considering all you were doing today in your free time was beating yourself up and destroying training dummies. That'll mean I have less replacement targets to order. Everyone's happy." Shyvana glared ruefully at Alicia, but the gunny's smile was impervious.

"Very good! I'm sure she'll be grateful to finally get to meet you. I shall pick you up from the barracks tomorrow at five thirty, yes?" Noel said, bowing. "Thank you for your time, Miss Shyvana."

"Wait... hold on..." Shyvana stammered but Noel had already disappeared with a swish of her uniform. Shyvana stuck her head into the hallway, looking for the maid to ask a question, but she had disappeared around the corner. Shyvana glanced the other way, trying to make sure she wasn't just imagining things and rubbed her eyes. She stepped back into the room, pulling the door shut behind her, moving a bit slower, as if she had been stunned. "W-what just happened?" Shyvana sat heavily on the bed, trying to let her head catch up with what had just occurred. She flopped backwards and laid her arm over her face, taking a few deep breaths. "That was... overwhelming."

"The tickling or the maid?" Alicia said with a grin. She held the pillow out of reach of Shyvana with a smile.

"Both." Shyvana said, her shoulder slumping momentarily as she took a deep breath and exhaled again.

"My best guess is that you're either going on a date with Jarvan or meeting the family, sooo..." Alicia said with a knowing grin. "You might as well try and have some fun! Just dress up and go just to see what's going on; it'll be easy. Besides, you can figure out if the rumors are true."

"I met the family already." Shyvana said, shivering. "I ended up destroying some of the palace and I don't think In really made a decent impression." She closed her eyes and shook her head., trying to sit up and look attentive. "But what's this about rumors?" A frown crossed over her face. "What rumors?"

"The ones about the prince." Alicia said, pulling a paper bag out from under a large pile of colorful paper wrappers from their dinner. She paused and frowned, her hand deep in the bag. "Apparently the king and Prince Jarvan got into a shouting match yesterday. Jarvan was sentenced to house arrest after he nearly assaulted the king. You haven't heard?"

"He did WHAT!?" Shyvana said, tumbling off the bed. She picked herself up and shook her head, blinking as disbelief covered her face. She pushed herself up and crawled back onto the bed, glaring at Alicia.

"He nearly hit the king..." Alicia said quietly. "Or he tried to, before the guards detained him, that is."

"Why?" Shyvana said, leaning towards Alicia. "What happened? Is Jarvan alright?"

"Well, as far as I know, no one was hurt." Alicia said with a shrug. "Jarvan was in a meeting, but right afterwords he got into an argument with the king and then just went berserk over something. He was detained by guardsmen and confined to his quarters right after that." Shyvana shook her head in disbelief, sinking backward before she flopped back, flat on the bed.

Shyvana stared up at the ceiling in silence. _Jarvan... what happened?_

"Buck up. Here." Alicia held out a square package that was wrapped in colorful paper. Shyvana pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"What's this?" Shyvana said, accepting the package and sniffing it. The scent was sweet and rich, nutty and strong. _It smelled of extremely rich chocolate._ Her mouth fell open and she started to drool as she opened the package.

"It's a piece of dark chocolate cake." Alicia said with a grin. "I saw you staring when we passed the bakery on our way back. I thought I'd cheer you up since you weren't feeling so hot earlier. If you don't like chocolate, I got myself a piece of cheesecake you can have instead." Shyvana shook her head rapidly, wiping a tendril of saliva from her chin.

"No, this is good!" Shyvana said excitedly, looking at the cake with a large grin on her face. She dug in using her fingers, pushing a huge chunk of the cake into her mouth. She moaned as the chocolate her tongue, blushing.

"You really like dessert, don't you?" Alicia said with a grin. Shyvana looked up from a massive mouthful of cake and tried to smile, sending crumbs tumbling to the ground. Alicia burst out laughing, tumbling backwards because she was laughing so hard.

"Yeah..." Shyvana said meekly, her cheeks flushed as she swallowed the mouthful of cake. "I really like chocolate."

"Heh, and here I thought you'd be all about red meat and snacking on the prince." Alicia said, grinning mischievously and nudging Shyvana as she tucked into her cheesecake. Shyvana's face turned bright red again and Alicia laughed so hard she started to choke on the bite of cheesecake she was trying to swallow.

"You keep teasing me about that." Shyvana said, handing over one of the cups of ale they had procured from the PX. Alicia sucked it down, pounding on her chest as she finally got the cheesecake and ale down, panting.

"Don't make me laugh so hard when I'm eating." Alicia said testily, glaring at Shyvana.

"B-but, you were-..." Shyvana stammered looking at Alicia with her mouth hanging open, astounded the gunny would try and give her grief after the tickling she had been subject to earlier. Alicia sat primly as she drank more of the ale, trying to appear innocent to any and all accusations. She opened one eye and glanced at Shyvana who was glaring at her suspiciously. Alicia tried to keep a straight face but was struggling to keep a smile from forming. She eventually broke down, laughing and giggling as Shyvana joined in. "What about you and Vorscham then?" Shyvana said as she forked another mouthful of the moist, dark cake into her mouth.

It was Alicia's turn to have her face turn the same shade of red as Shyvana's hair. She glanced at Shyvana and tried to swallow the cheesecake again, choking as second time and panicking as she reached for her cup. It was empty as she turned it up on end, and Shyvana chuckled, passing the bottle over, watching as Alicia turned it on end. Left panting and gasping for air, Alicia wiped some of the red ale from her mouth with the back of her hand, looking at Shyvana nervously. "There's nothing going on between the Lieutenant and I." She said, trying to play off her obvious nerves. Shyvana raised an eyebrow and fitted Alicia with a piercing glare. "Really, there's nothing going on, I promise you."

"I suppose I must take your word for it." Shyvana said, watching as Alicia sighed heavily, looking at the cheesecake with a frown that said otherwise. _Well I don't buy it, but that looks to be a pretty sore topic._ Shyvana let it go, finishing off the last of her cake and then washing it down with the last of her own ale. She laid back on the bed heavily with a satisfied sigh, laying her hand over her stomach and patting it a few times. "Mmm, that was good."

"Doesn't take much to keep you happy, now does it?" Alicia said, pulling her knee up to her chest and smiling, leaning her cheek against her kneecap.

"I could really use a hug from Jarvan right about now, but other than that, no, I don't need much to be happy." Shyvana said softly, rolling onto her side, her face flushed.

"Well hopefully it will all work out tomorrow, right?" Alicia said, getting to her feet and gathering up the trash from their meals and packing it into one of the paper bags. She left the bag in the trash can and took a deep breath, glancing back over her shoulder at Shyvana. "How about this: I'll lend you a cute outfit and I'll help you get your hair tamed. I'll even throw in a little makeup so you look your best. Sound good?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Shyvana said, running her hands over her bangs as they fell over face. "It's such a beautiful shade of red, and it's nice and long... soft and shiny..."

"It's messy." Alicia said bluntly.

"That's not nice." Shyvana said, yawning. Her face was now red and she tucked her legs into her chest as she tugged on the end of her braid, nibbling the tip of the longest few locks of hair. "I like my hair... it's so pretty... and red..."

"You said that already." Alicia rolled her eyes but smiled. "Well, we'll deal with it in the morning." Alicia said, shaking her head. She looked back at Shyvana, and frowned, the dragoness was trembling, her face flushed a deep red. "You alright, Shyvana?"

"I think so..." She said, pushing her face into the bed as her breathing deepened slightly. "I feel kinda strange... it's _tingly."_ She giggled slightly, a cat like smile on her face as she rolled back and forth along the bed. "Oh Jarvan, it's so good to finally see you!"

Alicia glanced around, looking over her shoulder and then scratching her cheek. "Uh, Shyvana, you must be seeing things." Shyvana grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest, giggling maniacally again. Shyvana shook her head and moaned loudly, surprising Alicia as horns sprouted from her head. "Oh wow, you are _extremely_ horny right now." Alicia smirked at her own joke but it slowly died as Shyvana paid her no attention. "Nothing?" Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

"Please Jarvan, wait..." Shyvana moaned, giggling again as she rolled onto her back, holding the pillow on top of her. "We can't do that here... people will see us!"

"Uhm." Alicia blushed at bit as she watched Shyvana press the pillow against her body. "I get you haven't seen Jarvan in a while, but the least you could do is wait until I'm gone to start pleasuring yourself."

"Jarvan, you mustn't touch me there!" Shyvana moaned, her breathing heavy and hot. "If you're going to ride me on this, the least you could do is pull my hair..."

"What's with you?" Alicia said, shaking her head as she ran a hand over her face. "You're completely delusional."

"It's so hot all of a sudden." Shyvana shook her head, quaking slightly as she bounced on the bed giddily. "Jarvan, please not yet... It won't fit..."

"And that's my cue to leave!" Alicia said, shaking her head. She paused at the door and listened to Shyvana maniacally cackling to herself as she tossed and turned on the bed. She shook her head and grinned, rolling her eyes as she pulled the door shut behind her. She chuckled and shook her head. "Alcohol does nothing. Apparently, dragon's and chocolate make for a hot time. Well, at least I think the chocolate did it." She shrugged and sighed as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"Good night, and sweet dreams, Shyvana." Alicia smirked as she shook her head, leaving the dragoness to her fantasies and her chocolate addled dreams.


	13. Chapter 12: Catherine

Shyvana felt out of place as she stood at the front door of the barracks.

"June, are you sure about this?" Shyvana tugged on the cloak, pulling it closer around her. "I feel so... exposed. These clothes are so thin, and the thing you gave me for my chest hurts." Shyvana went to tug at the brassiere again, but Alicia swatted her hand aside and made a fuss about making sure Shyvana's blouse was on correctly and how the cloak wasn't going to mess up the ribbon that Alicia had tied Shyvana's thigh-long braid off with. She rearranged Shyvana's scarf for the umpteenth time, adjusting the end of the tassels so it fell over her chest, letting the deep blue accent Shyvana's hair.

"You're going to dinner, not battle!" June said in a mischievous manner. "If you want to make a good impression, wearing a military uniform isn't really the right way to go about it. Besides, if it is Jarvan, you might as well wear something cute, just in case!" Alicia patted her on the back and gave her a brave smile, but Shyvana simply blushed, looking at the ground.

"I don't like it, regardless." Shyvana muttered.

"Oh, I don't want to hear any of that nonsense." Alicia said, trying to brush a lock of hair from Shyvana's face. It didn't want to cooperate though, the single lock of red hair bouncing down just over her nose. "Your hair, it doesn't like to cooperate does it?"

Shyvana tried to shake her hair out, but it didn't move much. "It usually does just what I want, but you stuck so many pins in it, my head just feels heavy." Shyvana protested. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid on the back of her head, her bangs practically plastered to her head by bobby pins and hair clips. "Can't I take some of them out?"

"Why?" Alicia said, taking Shyvana in her arms and giving her a hug. "You look so cute!"

Shyvana blushed furiously. "I guess, but..."

"Don't sweat it, Shyvana." Alicia said, smiling. "Just _be_ yourself, be _true_ to yourself and don't let it worry you. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"I don't even know who I'm meeting though." Shyvana said with a frown, her voice slightly distressed.

"Good evening." Noel approached the massive wooden doors of the barracks with a polite smile on her face and a cloak wrapped around her shoulders against the afternoon chill. The day was dreary and overcast and the sky had just begun to darken. There was the scent of a fresh snowfall coming, but Noel looked as calm and happy as ever.

"Hi there!" Alicia said, smiling infectiously. Shyvana barely mumbled a greeting, still staring at the ground.

"Ready?" Noel asked, looking Shyvana over. The dragoness nodded nervously. "Very good! Shall we go then?" She started off, gesturing for Shyvana to follow.

"Alright." Shyvana responded, falling into step with the maid.

"Take care and have fun." Alicia said, waving. Shyvana pulled the cloak around her tighter, the gusts of wind bouncing up under her cloak and sweeping up the skirt. She shivered and pushed the skirt down, trying to fight the wind but try as she might, she was uncomfortable in this new form of dress.

"You look pretty today, ma'am." Noel said, smiling politely as she slowed her pace to match Shyvana.

"Oh." Shyvana said blushing as she tried to stop fidgeting with the skirt for a few moments, trying to process the comment coming from Noel. "Thank you?"

"Of course." Noel said, nodding and smiling, dimpling prettily. "I wasn't aware that you owned any clothes of your own yet."

"These were loaned to be by June—Gunnery Sergeant Juniper." Shyvana said, shaking her head and blushing a bit again. "I feel really out of place honestly, Miss Noel. I have no idea what I should say. I don't even know who I'm meeting!"

"Not to worry, my master is very excited to meet you. She has expressed rising concerns of the state of Jarvan's mental health, and her concern has led her to you." Noel let slip a small frown. "The confrontation between Jarvan and his father the other day has left her curious about you needless to say. The queen is a very understanding and kind woman though, I'm sure you'll get along just fine with her."

"The queen?" Shyvana squeaked, her eyes growing wide. "B-but... What can I do?" Shyvana stammered, blinking and stumbling over a cobblestone as she struggled to catch up with Noel as she picked up the pace a bit. "I can hardly find my way around the barracks! I'm not in any position to help someone else right now."

"Au contraire, Miss Shyvana." Noel said with a smile. "Mental stability, company, drive, protection, comfort," Noel winked and Shyvana blushed a bit. "...are all ways that you can help the prince. You'll do just fine this evening."

"Everyone keeps telling me I'll do well, but I really don't know what I'm doing." Shyvana said blushing again as she slowed to a stop, staring at the ground. Noel paused a few steps ahead, looking back at Shyvana with a bit of a frown marring her face.

"Worry not, Miss Shyvana, the queen is very gracious and kind." Noel said reassuringly. "Imagine you are speaking to your mother. It's as simple as that."

"I..." Shyvana hesitated. "I never knew my mother." Shyvana tugged on the cloak, her hands working to try and hide her nerves, but all they did was betray her. Noel froze for a long period of time, simply looking down at Shyvana, blinking.

"Oh. Well." Noel said, now the hesitant one. "Please excuse me, I didn't mean to offend you, or say anything inappropriate."

"It's fine." Shyvana said with a heavy sigh, pulling the scarf up over her mouth and tucking her face into the soft woolen fabric. "There is no way you could have known."

"I'm truly sorry." Noel said, bowing. She stood up straight and looked around for a moment, and then smiled, her eyes widening a bit as is she had an epiphany. "The way Gunny Juniper was worrying over you, that's motherly. Think of the queen similar to how you would think of Gunny Juniper."

"That's how a mother acts?" Shyvana said, smiling to herself, hiding it behind her scarf again. "I guess that makes sense." Shyvana paused for a moment, her face flushed just a bit as she remembered what Alicia had done in her quest to try and cheer Shyvana up the night before. _I hope the Queen isn't that... wild_.

"It will explain itself when you meet her." Noel said, smiling, gesturing for Shyvana to follow her again.

"But..." Shyvana started to protest as she jogged to catch up with the maid's strides.

"My master will explain everything in due time, Miss. Until then..." Noel said, forestalling any comments as she stopped at an intersection of two city streets. The maid turned back and smiled, gesturing towards the street. "Welcome to Merchant's Street, heart of the Mercantile District." Noel's black bangs bounced as her braid swished from side to side behind her as she turned and led Shyvana down the street.

"This is amazing, Miss Noel." Shyvana's mouth hung open as she watched the packed thoroughfare. Men and women walked arm in arm as they strode up and down the street. Brightly lit shoppe windows glowed with all sorts of nicknacks and gifts displayed in the window. They passed a store with glowing motes of light dancing an intricate pattern in the window, a mage casting beautiful patterns of light as small children and their parents crowded around to watch. Shyvana stopped and stared in awe, wonder glittering in her eyes as the light blossomed and swirled. It was like watching fireflies and stars dance a ballet; something Shyvana had never seen before.

"Wow..." Shyvana mouthed as a small dragon, made of orange flames and golden swirls, danced around the children's heads. A smile spread across the children and Shyvana's face as the dragon roared, and sprayed a small cloud of sparkling flames into the air.

"That's nothing." Noel said with a grin. "Child's play." Shyvana blinked a few times as looked at Noel with a disbelieving grin. "When Mistress Luxanna Crownguard returns from the Institute of War, you must ask her to show you some real illusion magic. You won't believe the things she can show you."

"I'll try to remember that." Shyvana said, falling in besides Noel as her eyes danced around the street. "Miss Noel?"

"Please." She said, turning towards the dragoness. "It's just Noel at this point, young lady."

"Alright." Shyvana said, an excited smile upon her face. She stuck her hand out. "Call me Shyvana, then." Noel look surprised but accepted the her hand and shook it. She smiled as she continued to lead the way down the crowded street. "I meant to ask earlier, but what is with all of the decoration. I don't remember them from when I first entered the city. Even yesterday I didn't see any of this... what happened? It's all so beautiful but I don't know what it's for..."

Lights twinkled around the street and candles danced in the windows, casting an eerie glow along the cobbles when the many shadows danced past. Lanterns sparkled to life, the motes of fire flaring and growing brighter, giving the street a warm, golden-orange color. Sprigs of green leaves with white berries hung from the top of archways and above doors. Boughs of holly and fir were dressed around the street, long chains hanging from walls and the street lamps. Blue and gold ribbons decorated rings of dark green holly and pine branches, all of it smelling fresh and crisp like it had just been cut. Gold and blue badging decorated all of the bows as well, the Demacian crest shimmering on each and every ribbon. Shyvana rubbed her eyes, unable to believe what she saw before her as she approached the next intersection, Noel following behind her with a small smile. A tall fir tree now stood in the main intersection of Merchant's Street, small motes of light dancing across its branches. It was decorated with shinning glass balls of white, blue and gold, icy white frosting decorating each with a delicate pattern. Shyvana pranced up and stared into her reflection in one of the white balls of glass, surprised by the odd shape of her face that it shown in the reflection. She giggled at the silly expression, waggling her tongue and crossing her eyes as she continued to giggle and make faces at herself.

"Having fun?" Noel said, smiling as she watched Shyvana. "These are traditional Snowdown decorations."

"Snowdown?" Shyvana said, wrinkling up her nose, a frown upon her face.

"Surely you've heard of the Time of Snowdown." Noel said, an astonished look upon her face. While Noel had observed that Shyvana had slowly been acclimating herself with the Demacian lifestyle, mostly thanks to Gunny Juniper, there were often still things that seemed to allude her.

"I have, though I've never actually celebrated it." She tried to shrug but couldn't manage the gesture properly, breaking into a nervous smile.

"That's a pity..." Noel said, a soft expression upon her face. Shyvana could see a glimmer of excitement in Noel's eyes, but there was also one of disappointment as well. Shyvana was surprised by the two emotions swirling around in her eyes, but turned her attention back to the decorations.

"And is this all normal?" Shyvana said, pointing to the holly and pine that decorated everything around the street. All of the windows and bare walls were covered in festive decoration and lights, and even the lamp posts had been given a green fir makeover.

"For the Palace, and the Mercantile district, yes, it's _quite_ the tradition." Noel said with a proud smile. "Demacia is famous for going all out with Snowdown decorations. Almost the entire city looks like this. It's gorgeous." She beamed, turning to look over the top of Shyvana's head at a shoppe window. "And with the snow that should be coming... oh, it's unlike anything you've ever seen." Her voice was reverent and quiet with awe, a broad smile upon her face.

"It sounds lovely." Shyvana said with a smile. She continued looking around as they walked, but soon a thoughtful expression crossed onto her face. "Are there any other traditions I should know about?"

"Well..." Noel said, slowing up and glancing around the street. "Let's see, there's mistletoe." Noel pointed to the green leaves and white berries above a doorway, where a couple was exchanging a passionate kiss. Shyvana blushed slightly, but Noel smiled. "Something that Jarvan will undoubtedly share with you. There are also a few traditions that have held over from what Snowdown used to be, a time to commemorate the pass of the previous year. Demacia's events used to be dominated with a strong sense of reverence, hosting grand ceremonies and commemorations of the year's passed heroes, but with the recent peace, we've move to more happy celebrations or life and achievement. The tradition used to be gifts of sorrow to those who had lost family, but now it has lost much of that meaning. Parents often give their children presents, wrapped up in bows and colorful paper beneath the tree because they're thankful they get to share another year together." Noel gestured towards a tree in a toy shoppe window where boxes wrapped with colorful paper and ribbon had been piled high. "Lovers often exchanged gifts as well, as you never know at what point your loved one might have to march off to war. Though that doesn't happen nearly as much anymore, thanks to the Institute of War."

"I see..." Shyvana said, lost in thought as they continued up the street. _What if Jarvan ever had to march off to war? All the talk has pointed to the possibility recently..._ Shyvana shook her head, and tried not to think about losing Jarvan to something unfortunate like that. _If Jarvan is ever called to war, I shall be right there beside him._

As they walked along the street, Shyvana tried to turn her thoughts back to the colorful sights and smells, rather than how much she missed Jarvan. As she tried to take in all the different things, she began to realized that she was woefully unprepared for the multitude of amazing things that assaulted her senses. On top of the new sights, smells, tastes and sounds, the people were crushing in around her. Unlike Noxus, where everyone had been too busy to notice her, everyone they passed seemed to offer them a cheerful holiday greeting. It was... _different._ Noel returned many of them with her seemingly normal, cheerful response of '_Happy Snowdown to you, too!'_ Shyvana was content with merely nodding her greetings to the families, women, men and everyone else they passed on the street.

When Shyvana wasn't lost amid the general good cheer and festive greetings of the crowd, her eyes were plastered upon the massive store fronts that were all vying for business and attention. She saw shoppes that sold every sort of thing imaginable, from toys and small nicknacks for young boys and girls, to arms and weapons and everything in between. Smithies turned out small, beautiful pieces of silver and gold jewelry, their fine craft garnering impressive attention from women, often hanging onto the arm of dashing young men in military uniforms who were intent on impressing their female companions. It wasn't long before Noel gestured towards a shoppe front amid the many others, standing on the corner of an intersection.

"We've arrived, Shyvana." Noel said, stepping towards it and motioning for Shyvana to follow. Shyvana simply nodded and followed her into the restaurant, the scent of food and baked goods suddenly reminding Shyvana how hungry she was. Shyvana sniffed the air, the distinct scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the entrance way of the restaurant. A hostess approached, dressed in a pretty tartan skirt and a simple white blouse, an apron hanging loosely upon her hips.

"Welcome to the Stone Hearth Cafe." The hostess said, smiling at both of them. "How can I help you?"

"We have a friend here already, she's waiting for us." Noel said, smiling. "The party name should be 'Catherine'."

"Let me just check the registrar here, ma'am..." The hostess said as she looked over a sheet of paper on the podium that was just inside the door. Her eyes grew wide when she same across it. "OH! W-welcome, ma'am! This way, please!" The hostess lead them excitedly through the crowded dining room to the back of the dining area, where a set of stairs were roped off. The hostess moved the rope out of the way, gesturing up the stairs. Noel nodded her thanks and started up the steps, Shyvana following behind her all the way up, ending on large platform that stretched along the side of the high ceiling. It was a bit darker than the lower floors, but it was also warmer. There were a few tables here and there but they were all empty. "Your table is right over here, ladies."

Shyvana paused as she looked towards the furthest table back, tucked away in the far corner, over looking a large window that gave a wide view of the street below. Standing at the window a tall, elegant woman, looking out over the street with a surprisingly soft smile upon her face, a dark cloak pulled over her shoulders. She turned at the sound of footsteps and looked back, almost surprised to see Shyvana and Noel standing there. The surprise melted and was replaced with a warm smile, as she ran her hand along the back of the chair, taking several steps forward. She paused, a few steps beyond the table, but she took one step further into the light, revealing brown hair and eyes that were the exactly same shade of gray-blue as Jarvan's eyes.

"Well, aren't you charming." The soft voice mused. "Greetings, Shyvana." Shyvana blinked a few times and then blushed, suddenly bowing deep.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am!" Shyvana nearly barked. She realized she was way too loud and then bowed again, staying down as her eyes drilled into the floor. _Damnit! I'm already making an ass of myself! _Catherine Lightshield moved with an the ease and grace that billowed around her as she seemed to float over the wooden boards of the cafe. She touched Shyvana on the shoulder and gently gestured for her to stand. "Oh, uh, your highness..." Shyvana said nervously, her already windswept cheeks burning an even brighter shade of pink. She envied the grace and wisdom of the Queen of Demacia, her soft voice and even demeanor already serving to calm Shyvana's nerves.

"Please, I asked you here to learn more about you, not to drill you on basic military protocol." Catherine offered the dragoness a warm smile, hoping to melt a bit of the ice of the first meeting. "I'd like this to be a casual as possible. I really don't care for the rigor and pomp of military proceedings in times as intimate as these. Snowdown is a time for cheer, reflection and family. My family..." She sighed heavily as she lowered herself to the chair. "My family is starting to tear itself apart, and I need your help."

"M-my help?" Shyvana stammered, standing up infinitely straighter, blushing slightly. "I mean—of course. How can I help you, ma'am?"

"Please." Lady Catherine said, shaking her head just a bit as she chuckled softly, hiding her mouth with a hand. "Just call me Catherine."

"Sure—I mean yes ma'am—I mean of course your majesty—I mean..." Shyvana said, nervously her voice turning to mumbles as she blushed. "I don't know what I mean..." Her voice trailed off with an embarrassed whimper.

"Please, please, it's simply Catherine." The queen said, chuckling softly again. "Just treat me like you would treat your own mother." The queen offered her a warm smile, but Shyvana's face fell and the queen realized she had said something that caused Shyvana to feel sad.

"Yes, ma'am." Shyvana said, with a soft voice, her tone slightly subdued. Lady Catherine started to reprimand her but the look on Shyvana's face silenced her.

"Please, have a seat." Lady Catherine gestured to one of the chairs around the table, trying to offer an encouraging smile. "And you as well, Noel. Please, sit down with us."

"Ma'am, I couldn't..." Noel began to say, but Lady Catherine simply looked at the maid once and Noel nodded quickly. She made sure both Shyvana and Lady Catherine were seated first before she took her own seat.

The waitress who had been standing off to the side approached a few steps and bowed her head almost reverently. "So, what can I get for you ladies before we get dinner served?" She said politely, smiling.

"Three mugs of Cocoa will be fine for now." Lady Catherine said, smiling at the waitress. "Would you like anything else to accompany that? We may not eat for a little while..." She directed the question towards Shyvana, watching the excitement play over her face. Lady Catherine sighed a breath of relief that Shyvana was cheering up.

"A chocolate chip cookie please." Shyvana said meekly, blushing, embarrassed at her own excitement.

"Better make it three." Catherine said with a smile. The waitress nodded and disappeared to get their cookies and drinks. She took a deep breath and the laced her hands in front of her upon the table. "While we wait, I hope you don't mind if I ask some questions about you?" Lady Catherine said hesitantly. "They may be a bit personal."

"I'll answer them as best I can." Shyvana said nodding bravely as she took a deep breath. She pulled the cloak from her shoulders and hung it on the back on her chair. She tried not to fiddle with the hair clips, but she couldn't help but fiddle with her braid. She caught herself and tried to sit up a bit straighter. "Before we start, can I ask you a question, ma'am?"

"Only if you call me Catherine." The queen said almost scornfully. "Or at least Lady Catherine if you are that uncomfortable with just Catherine."

"Lady Catherine, please." Shyvana said meekly, grinning and slightly embarrassed.

"Go ahead then, young lady." Lady Catherine said with a smile meant to calm her. Shyvana looked hesitant but nodded a bit and sobered up trying to put on a brave face.

"Why did you want to meet me, ma'am?" Shyvana asked bluntly. Lady Catherine set her hands on the table before her and sighed a breath of relief as if she was relieved.

"Dragons have always been a bit of a fascination of mine." Catherine said with a girlish smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back just a bit. "My father used to talk of a time when dragons freely roamed Valoran. They worked with humans hand in hand, training and teaching them how to balance the flow of life and magic. But eventually... dragons kind left the eye of civilization. Why did that happen?"

"Well..." Shyvana frowned. "That was millennia ago. Dragon-kind likes to blame humanity and their abuse of magic for causing the deterioration of the world, but my father was never convinced that the dragons were completely absolved in responsibility. Dragon magic is just as violent and barbaric as human magic." Shyvana shrugged. "My father told me some stories about the dragon's of old, but he never spoke of his past much, mostly the history he observed."

"He was a scholar then?" Lady Catherine proposed.

"Yes." Shyvana said, nodding. "He was a historian of sorts, watching the world and trying to theorize about the world he had lived through to try and help the new world."

"He would have done well to serve the Institute of War." Catherine said sympathetically. "His knowledge would have been a boon, and he could have possibly found protection there for you."

"Humanity was not kind to my father and I." Shyvana said hesitantly. "We were chased from more towns than I can remember, and seldom did humans want to listen to a dragon, regardless of how wise he may have been. I don't know if he tried to approach the Institute, but I don't know If he would have ever been able." Shyvana stared at the table, wiping away tears that she hadn't realized had formed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Lady Catherine said, patting Shyvana's hand gently.

Shyvana shook her head. "It's fine. I miss him a lot, but I can't think that he'd be anything but happy for me now."

"I would imagine so." Lady Catherine said smiling. "That being said though, just who are you?" Lady Catherine looked towards the dragoness with a bit of a smile playing over her face. "I had thought dragons hated humans?"

"I'm actually only half-dragon." Shyvana said, looking down at her hands. "My father was a celestial dragon and my mother was human. I can hardly remember her from when I was just a baby and my father didn't speak of her much. She was from Demacia, well, at least I think she was. The only memento of her that I have is this hair." Shyvana tugged on her braid, running her hands over the soft red hair.

"A live celestial dragon?" Catherine said, her mouth hanging open slightly. "I had read about them in my history books. I thought they had gone extinct long ago..."

"Well, my father actually died several months ago." Shyvana said, looking at the ground and tucking her hands under her thighs, against the wooden chair. "I don't know if there are any others left out there honestly."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Catherine said softly. A few moments of silenced followed, and the queen finally sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before opening her eyes and meeting Shyvana's gaze intently. She opened her mouth to say something but she shut it when steps approached them from behind. The hair on the back of Shyvana's neck stood on in and she flexed her knuckles on top of her knees, readying for an attack.

"Here you go, ladies." The waitress said, smiling, dimpling prettily as she swept up towards the table. Shyvana exhaled, trying to calm herself, running her hands over her the skirt to dry her palms. The waitress set a steaming mug before Shyvana, Lady Catherine, and Noel, and set a plate with three large chocolate chip cookies between them. Shyvana licked her lips as Noel said her thanks. "I'll hold off on a main course for you ladies, yes?" The queen nodded a conformation and her thanks. "Very well. Please let us know when you're ready." The waitress nodded and left them to their drinks and their odd choice of appetizer. Noel wrapped her hands around the barrel of her mug, letting the steam caress her face. Shyvana did the same, pulling it close to her, ducking her head to sniff the murky brown contents of the mug.

"What is this '_cocoa'_?" Shyvana said, glancing from the thick, muddy looking liquid up to the queen. "It smells like chocolate..." Lady Catherine laughed with a broad smile spread over her face.

"It is, indeed. Go ahead and try it, this cafe has the best cocoa in the entire kingdom." Lady Catherine said, sipping her mug gingerly. Shyvana watched a smile grow on both Lady Catherine and Noel's faces and then slowly did the same, her eyes growing as wide as the saucer beneath her mug when she finally tasted the contents. She took a long pull from the mug, closing her eyes and moaning softly as the warmth spread through her body. She felt warmth begin to spread through her extremities against the day's chill.

"That's amazing." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath and sighing contently. Noel giggled softly.

"You really like chocolate, don't you?" Noel said, grinning over top of her own mug of hot cocoa. Shyvana nodded vigorously, this time causing even the queen to chuckle softly as a smile spread over Shyvana's face, her cheeks blushed to a soft pink. She look another sip, sinking just a bit in her seat, sighing contently.

"That's so good..." Shyvana murmured. She sat back and took a cookie, slowly nibbling on it as she waited. Lady Catherine could see her nerves starting to mount again. She set her mug down and took a deep breath.

"We might as well address this subject now." Catherine asked, leaning forward on the table and looking directly at the dragoness. "What exactly is going on between you and my son, Prince Jarvan?"

"Well... I guess you could we're..." Shyvana began, hesitating, blushing furiously as she spoke the words with a small voice. She was obviously searching for the right way to explain how she felt about the prince. "He asked me something once." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she pressed a hand over her heart, reciting the words from memory. "'You, who are born of both dragon and human blood have been invaluable to me in so many ways, through this immense cataclysm that marks the land and our lives. Will you serve Demacia at my side and accept her as your new home?' When he spoke those words, I think I felt my heart melt." Shyvana opened her eyes and looked over at the queen who looked surprised, but the surprise soon turned to a smile.

"He said that?" The woman said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know..." Shyvana said, smiling a little bit, but as she pressed her hands into her lap, the smile faded. "I told him that as long as I was beside him, I would be happy. But now, I have to wonder if it's really going to work out like we—I had originally hoped."

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning then." Lady Catherine said evenly. Though she didn't betray any sympathy, she didn't look angry or perturbed. "When he lost his company so many years ago, something changed in him. Jarvan was no longer the outgoing, energetic and ambitious young officer he had been before, the spitting image of the perfect Demacian soldier. He was a shell, both here and not here at the same time. Two years ago, he up and left Demacia, setting out with twelve men in his service, the last remnants of his Exemplar Company."

Shyvana nodded. "When I first met Jarvan, he had been empty and distant, but only seven of the twelve men were in his service still. I was afraid and in the late stages of shock when we had first encountered each other, angry at the world for the pain I had suffered. I didn't think it was fair and I was willing to lash out at anyone who approached." Shyvana said, wringing her hands. "I... uh... may or may not have tried to kill him when he first approached."

Catherine inhaled sharply, sitting up. "Jarvan definitely left that part out of his report."

"I don't blame him..." Shyvana said, grimacing. "It wasn't my finest moment." Catherine sighed heavily as Noel patted her hand sympathetically.

"I'm glad to see that the two of you managed to work it out." Noel said with a smile. Shyvana laughed and she could hear Catherine laugh as well. Shyvana sighed contently and she paused to wonder if this is what it was like to have a mother; she had never known her own. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, not all too different from when she and Jarvan managed to share one of their few quiet moments.

"It was difficult." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "I don't think I've ever faced anything more difficult, and I don't think I'll ever face anything harder that what we went through back then." She looked to the ground and took a sip of the cocoa to try and calm her nerves. "This may be hard to deal with, the training and separation, but it's child's play to what we faced before."

"I can't begin to imagine what you went though." Lady Catherine said softly, sympathy on her face.

"It was hell." Shyvana said, glancing away with a look of pain and disgust on her face. "But, it was not something I wasn't used to."

"You make it sound like you went through it for all of you life." Lady Catherine started to joke. The smile died when Shyvana gave her a haunted look. "Please continue." Shyvana nodded meekly.

"I was chased and tormented by a dragon all of my life, with the intent of being used to break and torture my father for betraying dragon kind, for mating with a human. My father died at the hands of that bastard, Kampf, and he left me to die, retreating to watch as I suffered and grieved."

"That's horrifying." Catherine said, her voice laced with a mix of awe and disgust. "Why would he do something like that, though?"

"Kampf viewed me as an abomination; a mark upon the honor of dragon-kind that sullied their pure bloodlines. I was a blemish and I was to be purged, but not before I suffered for my very existance. It was a few days after that when I first met Jarvan." Her voice trailed off. "While I may have tried to fight him at first, I soon realized that he merely wanted to help me, not cause me more undue pain and agony. He gave me food and water as I approached the brink of death, and he rescued me from myself."

"If you need a moment..." Noel said softly, but Shyvana shook her head, blinking away tears.

Shyvana pushed on. "All I can say is that my life, my entire being, belongs to Jarvan. I owe him more than I could ever hope to pay back, and as we journeyed together, I came to love him dearly. When he offered me to opportunity to serve him and Demacia, I accepted his offer out of a mix of gratitude and necessity: my old life had been demolished, my father dead and no home to call my own. The prospect of remaining by his side and finally having a home to call my own... these were two things I could not pass up." Shyvana glared at the table and took a deep breath. She stole a look at Lady Catherine and was stunned to see tears welling in the queen's eyes. "Ma'am?"

She cracked a massive smile and glanced away, accepting a handkerchief from Noel and dabbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry, I had heard you two had been through a lot, but I wasn't aware about just how close you two were."

"I feel as if I haven't seen him in ages and now I'm starting to wonder if that wasn't but a lie." Shyvana wore a sad smile. "I would have thought he would have come and visited at least once, or maybe sent for me, but I haven't heard anything from him." She pressed her hands into her lap, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

"No, I'm pretty sure that is quite true, young lady, and with a history like that, Jarvan was right to bring you to Demacia. You've got my respect, more than you could imagine." Catherine mused, shaking her head with an affectionate smile. "Jarvan is quite taken with you, my dear, and he's been trying to come visit you for a while now, and I can see why now." Catherine shook her head, the smile fading slightly as a mix of concern and annoyance replaced it. "The problem is he actually got in a shoving match with his father two days ago, which has resulted in his current position."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but is Jarvan alright?" Shyvana said, looking hopeful. Catherine took a deep breath and frowned.

"I'm not quite sure if he's alright or not." She said, looking down at the table. "His father, the king, has been putting Jarvan under substantial mental stress, pushing him hard to try and keep him busy while he evaluates what is going on with my son right now."

"Did Jarvan do something wrong?" Shyvana said worriedly. "I had heard he was under house arrest, but if I've had anything to do with these problems..."

"No, no, it's a much greater problem than simply the lover of our disobedient son, to put it in layman's terms." Catherine shook her head slightly, ignoring how Shyvana blushed. "The entire world is being shaken up right now and the king is scrambling to maintain order and peace in Demacia. The Institute of War is taking a very hands-off approach to what could turn out to be a major geopolitical incident waiting to happen across the rest of Valoran, and tensions are high. Ionia and Noxus are on the verge of a war if the Institute doesn't step in soon. It may not show in Demacia right now, but both Noxus and Ionia are in turmoil over the approaching rematch for Ionia's freedom. Having Jarvan return at such a time has been both a boon and a problem, and that antagonizes the king."

"He's your son though, how could that be a problem?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly.

"It's become just one more piece of the puzzle my husband chooses to juggle." Catherine said, shaking her head and letting her shoulders slump just slightly, revealing a worried spouse, not the regal queen of a country. "He loves Jarvan more than anyone in the world, even me, but they're so much alike that they butt heads because their views on how to accomplish a goal differs. As you probably know, my son Jarvan is very headstrong and would rather fight his way through a situation, or intimidate and conquer a foe. My husband on the other hand, has his roots deeply based in the Demacian Security Brigade. He is both a thinker and a planner, with a spider's web of intrigue and plotting just out of public view at any one moment. He thrives in influencing politics from the shadows, stepping out to throw his massive political weight around when he needs to. I think he would prefer to simply return to his command over the Demacian Security Brigade rather than be commander-in-chief. He thrived and made a name for himself there among those who enjoyed playing those games."

"This is part of the reason that you and Jarvan have been quarantined from each other." Catherine said evenly. "My husband's paranoia knows no bounds, and his desire and obligation to keep the country safe has to come before his love for his kin. There are certain foes who would seek out Jarvan and try to corrupt him for their own reasons, be it to use him against Demacia, or to try and influence the balance of power. With his return, we can both ensure his safety and maneuver a bit more freely." Catherine offered Shyvana a thin smile, though there didn't seem to be any malcontent or malice hidden in it. "You however, pose a unique dilemma."

"I do?" Shyvana looked surprised. "Well I mean I _am_ part dragon..." Shyvana said, giggling a bit much considering what was being discussed. Shyvana tipped her cookie up as if she were trying to take a swig from a flask. She blinked a few times, confused and then examined what she held in her hand. Shyvana blushed furiously, realizing what she had done and went back to nibbling on the cookie, trying to act like it had never happened. Noel chuckled softly and the queen smiled, though it didn't last long on her face.

"It's not quite that simple, unfortunately." Catherine murmured, leaning back in her chair just a bit. "You, Miss Shyvana, are in the unique position of being extremely close to Jarvan. This makes you both a target and the greatest weapon anyone could ever use against Jarvan, and thus the greatest weapon anyone could every use against the king."

"I would never hurt Jarvan or Demacia!" Shyvana said slapping her hands down on the table, the haunting memories of a set of faint scars on Jarvan neck coming to mind. She seated herself and blushed slightly. "Excuse me."

"It's quite alright." Catherine said, her smile growing just a bit, her blue eyes beginning to warm up to the dragoness. "I would have been more surprised for you react otherwise if something of the sort was suggested, but that's not precisely what I was talking about." She held up a hand to forestall a comment. "You, as Jarvan's significant other, wife, girlfriend, lover, whatever you choose to remain or become, can be used to threaten Jarvan's life and sanity." Shyvana looked terrified, but Catherine set her jaw and pushed on. "He cares so deeply about you that if you were ever put in a situation of danger or peril, he would do anything and everything with his power to rescue you. He could be forced into betraying his country, his people, his own family if you were put in danger." Shyvana's face burned. "While I have no qualm with my son falling in love on a personal level, your safety and position is one that must always be considered." Catherine took a deep breath and let her face soften a bit. Shyvana took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"I am strong, and Jarvan knows that." Shyvana said quietly, meeting the queen's gaze. "While I may not have understood at first, I do understand the stress and responsibility that Jarvan is burdened with, and while I may not be able to offer any direct assistance, I am willing to offer and give him anything that he needs in support." She tried to maintain a firm gaze with the queen as she spoke, though color started to flood her cheeks. She glanced away and took a deep breath, trying to maintain a calm and firm demeanor.

"I admire your conviction." Lady Catherine said with a smile. "It's impressive to see how dedicated you are to my idiot son, despite the pain you've been through. It's refreshing to see such passion."

"Thank you." Shyvana said blushing a deeper shade of red. She sat back, sinking into her seat as if a large weight had been removed from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and looked down into her mug at the brown swirling contents, exhaling with a smile on her face. She finished the last of her cocoa off, licking her lips. "That was delicious." Lady Catherine and Noel chuckled together, causing Shyvana to blush again.

"You're a lot like a child in some ways." The queen said softly smiling as she leaned on her hand. "You seem so innocent and happy with the simple things in life."

"I don't need much to be happy." Shyvana said, her face now a steady pink. "I lived my entire life up till now with next to nothing. I would be lying if I didn't say how overwhelmed I've been since I arrived in Demacia. The sights, smells, food and experiences have been simply stunning and if it weren't for the fighting and training I've been doing, I think my head would have exploded by now." Noel and Shyvana laughed softly as the queen smiled.

"Living in a city like this can be quite different from the country life." Lady Catherine agreed.

"I know I may not be nobility or even Demacian yet, but I care more for Jarvan than I value my own life." Shyvana said quietly. "I... I-I love him." Her face turned a deep shade of red as she spoke the words. She tried to drop her head and hide behind her bangs, but with the hair clips and hairpins, she couldn't escape anything.

"I can see that quite clearly now." Catherine said, smiling and chuckling a bit, handing the handkerchief back to Noel. "Thank you Noel. And for you, Miss Shyvana, I'll have a talk with my husband about rescinding his quarantine. You've convinced me with your passion and intensity that this is love in its truest and purest form." She shook her head, smiling. "I don't know if I can sway him to your side, but I can try to do at least this much for returning my son to me safely." She looked saddened for a moment but then gave Shyvana a brave smile. "Hopefully you can help Jarvan through these stressful times. I know he probably needs it right now."

"Thank you." Shyvana said, blushing deeply again, but smiling happily.

"I think I should be thanking you for bringing my son back." Lady Catherine said, smiling happily now. She chuckled softly.

"It's the least I could do for what I owe Jarvan." Shyvana said with a blushy grin. "I have a question though."

"Please, ask away." The queen said, nodding.

"What would make a good Snowdown gift for Jarvan?" The queen looked surprised but laughed and nodded. "I wasn't aware of many of the traditions, but Noel had started to explain of them to me and though it would be a good idea to get him a gift of some sort."

"He's my son... and I wish I knew." Lady Catherine said, a small smile fading from her lips. She sighed heavily, the weariness appearing on her face, wrinkles and lines appearing as she sunk back a few inches into her seat. She lost her regal appearance, the royalty that surrounded her, reverting to that of a worried parent.

"You could always polish his lance for him." Noel said bluntly. Shyvana glared at Noel and blushed deeply as Noel realized what she had just implied. "No, no, no! I mean you can have his armor and lance cleaned and refurbished by a smithy! I didn't mean... I..." Noel blushed and glared at the table. Lady Catherine laughed aloud, having to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound. Shyvana stared at the table, her cheeks nearly the same shade of red as her hair.

"Well... let's see if we can't think of a proper gift while we wait for dinner then." Lady Catherine grinned. As they did their best to compose themselves, Shyvana nodded happily and Noel chuckled a bit, smiling.

"That would be wonderful." Shyvana beamed.


	14. Chapter 13: Reunion

"So what purpose did it serve to start a shouting match with out son, dear?" Lady Catherine frowned as she stared out the window towards one of the opposite towers where her son's quarters were located. She slowly ran her comb through her long brown hair as she rested on the cushions, nestled up to the large window, snow just beginning to fall outside.

"He needs to learn his place." The king growled as he leaned over the basin in the bathroom. "He is of royal blood and must learn to act as such. If he's unable to accept such simple criticisms and responsibilities, then he has no right to his lineage."

"You're one to speak of accepting criticism and responsibility." Catherine muttered under her breath as she leaned up against the window, sighing heavily.

"Hmm?" The king grunted, sticking his head out of the bathroom with a frown on his face, mumbling something as he brushed his teeth. The queen sighed as the king let out a string of unintelligible sounds.

"How many times must I tell you; I can't understand you when you try to talk like that?" The queen shook her head, but wore an affectionate smile. She looked back out the window while she waited, the smile becoming conflicted as she watched the light in the opposite tower go out.

"You were saying?" The king ran a towel over his face, wiping the water from his beard where he had washed the residue from the toothpaste away.

"Why must you torment our son so?" Catherine said, a frown crossing her face. "You may be his commander, but you're also his father, and ever since he has returned, I don't think you've acted even remotely as such."

"Catherine..." Jarvan III began to say as he stepped out of the bathroom, tossing the towel onto a side table. He wore a frown and his eyes lacked any intensity at all as he glanced at the floor. They were neither sharp nor dangerous; they looked empty.

"If you expect sympathy from me about this situation, you're not going to find solace in my arms." She said firmly, glancing back to the window and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're systematically destroying your relationship with your only son, and you're only going to push him to the breaking point if this continues much longer."

"You know I'm only doing this to prepare him for what's to come..." Jarvan III said evenly, the hesitation evident in his voice.

"What else are you planning on doing?" Catherine said, her voice starting to get louder and slightly more shrill. "Toss him into the sea to see if he sinks or floats? I can't imagine there's much else you can put him through short of blatantly torturing him!"

Jarvan III posted his fists upon his hips. "Catherine, I shall raise my son as I-..."

"As what? As you see fit?" Catherine hissed angrily. "I read the reports, Trey. The man Jarvan viewed as his father, one of the two people who raised him, died to save his life and to protect the women he loved. And you're going to stand here and tell me our son is the one at fault?"

"I raised my son to be the finest soldier Demacia has ever seen!" the king snarled. "He _IS_ the exemplar of Demacia!"

"You did nothing of the sort!" Catherine snarled back, the venom in her voice enough to quell the king's anger and force him to take a step back. "Jarvan Lightshield IV was raised by two people: Noel Halsington and Valin Isaacs. They molded him into what he is today, and I don't know if it's fear, jealously, or anger you hold in your heart for your son right now, but so help me, _dear_, I will not stand for this humiliation and torture you are putting him through." Her voice was as sharp as a blade and from the look that the king wore, it cut in a similar manner.

"Catherine..." He began to say, stepping towards her with and arm outstretched.

"Don't come near me." She hissed back at him as tears began to drip down her face. "I was hardly a parent to that poor boy either, so you can call me a hypocrite all you want, but I won't stand idly by and watch as you destroy his life a second time. I made the mistake of taking my son for granted once before, and for two years I worried myself sick, thinking he held it against me. I drove myself to the point of exhaustion and pain because of my worries. If he had died during that time... I don't know if I would have ever forgiven myself."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Catherine..." Jarvan began to say softly.

She spun and faced him, anger blazing in her soft blue eyes, tears pouring down her face. "I didn't do anything at all!" She said, her voice cracking. "And that's exactly why I hate myself right now. Our son returned alive, but he is different, he's harder and more reserved. So much has changed and he won't hardly look at me."

"His temper certainly hasn't changed at all..." The king said quietly.

"And neither has yours, so clearly shown by the scene you decided was necessary to put on display in front of several hundred onlookers." Catherine snipped. "I nearly lost my son once, and I refuse to let you drive him away now that he's returned. I want to make up for all the neglect I showed before and now you're denying him the one thing he truly cares about right now."

"Don't tell me you're siding with him about that silly little dragon girl." The king rolled his eyes and turned away shaking his head.

"And that is exactly why you're alienating your son!" Catherine said, sympathy and pain cutting through her voice. "You refuse to even consider her. You refuse to even THINK about your son's feelings. You don't know anything about her, so how can you be so dead set against her!?"

"You just said it yourself!" The king growled, with frustration mounting in his voice. "I know nothing about her!"

"SO SIT DOWN AND HAVE TEA WITH HER." Catherine shouted, her face red with anger. Her shoulders rapidly rose and fell as she huffed and puffed, her face contorted with anger. "Something. Anything. I refuse to stand idly by while you destroy our family because for once, your son isn't following your orders and directions to the letter."

"But..." The king started to stammered, frowning.

"No, shut your damn mouth." Catherine snapped. "You and I had an arranged marriage, yes, it happens sometimes. We grew up together and we knew each other much longer than... than... who is he engaged to exactly?"

"Elvarran Brightstorm." The king said, setting his jaw.

"I don't even know who that is." The queen said, shaking her head. "Look, I want you to rescind your petty quarantine between Shyvana and Jarvan."

"So she's 'Shyvana' now, is she?" The king growled, looking as if he had been betrayed.

"Yes, she has a name." The queen said tightly, a frown on her face. "If you have any pittance of respect for your son, you'll respect at least his choice of partner. That starts with at least treating her with basic human rights, despite her not being entirely human herself. She's had a hard life, Trey, she deserves a home and Jarvan is trying to give her one." She took a deep breath, a weary look crossing her face. "Please, Trey. I lost Jarvan once and I don't want to lose him again. If you love your son as much as I think you do, please... just let him be happy for once."

"I wish it were that simple." The king said, shaking his head as she slumped down on the bed.

"What left do you have to worry about?" Lady Catherine said with a frown. "You've run endless security checks, you're having her beat to a pulp by her superiors over and over, and you're subjecting her to embarrassment, harassment and ridicule at the hand of your troops, and she's done nothing to warrant any of this suspicion. Has even a single problem, a mote of alarm, appeared on her horizon?"

"No, and that's exactly what worries me!" The king said, letting a bit of anger slip into his voice. "What changed? Why are you suddenly such an advocate of the young dragon-girl?"

"I had the chance to meet her." The queen said defiantly. Surprise crossed the king's face, something the queen had not seen in years. "She's just a sweet, nervous, worried young woman with a good head on her shoulders and passionate heart in her chest. I hardly see an issue with her."

"She's only half human!" The king exclaimed.

"That's still half more than you right now." The queen snapped back, completely silencing the king's protests. His jaw hung open before too long and he finally snapped his jaw shut.

"Catherine..." The king started to say something but a single glare from the queen silenced his qualms.

"You've listened to me in the past about matters of state and international politics." The queen harkened back to the days when she had actively served as his political adviser. It hadn't been long since they had actively served on the council together, but recently the queen had stepped down due in part to ailing health and stress from family issues and the upcoming prospects of war. Her health had suffered from stress and the pain of loss, "Why can't you listen to me regarding our only son?"

The king's shoulders slumped and he shook his head as he looked at the stone floor beneath his bare feet. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. "Fine. I'll rescind the quarantine. I still have plenty of reservations but for now... whatever." The king lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, a dark frown on his face.

"Now, now... that wasn't that hard, was it?" Catherine said, her expression lightening as she sat down on the edge of the bed next to him.

"I just hope I don't regret it." The king growled, shaking his head.

"I don't think you will." The queen said, wrapping her arms around her husband. "She's a brave and smart young woman. I think she'll be fine."

"It's not her I'm worried about right now." The king closed his eyes as exhaustion crept over him.

"Worried about Jarvan are you?" The queen said, sighing. She wore a smile as she settled down on the bed next to her husband. She poked him, waiting for an answer, but she only got a snort and a rumble of his snoring. She chuckled softly as she waved her hand, extinguishing the hextech lanterns.

_You may be a pompous old fool, but at least you're not completely heartless._ She lay back, imagining the cute young woman she had met that evening reuniting with her son. She smiled to herself as she greeted sleep like an old friend, the excitement of the day before finally catching up with her.

* * *

Jarvan sat at his desk and watched as the morning snow drifted past his window. The large, snow laden clouds hung in the air high above and the air was frigid, the window frosted along the corners where snow had settled on the outside of the window sill. He spun in his chair to face his desk as he waited, watching the clock upon the wall. Soon, it would strike noon and then lunch would arrive, and then after that, more endless waiting. Jarvan's temper had long subsided and now he was only annoyed about his situation, waiting for whatever his father had set up for him when he was released from this mind numbing sentence.

"Day five of this endless boredom." Jarvan sighed and leaned on his desk. He glanced around the room at all of the tomes that were stacked up against every wall of the room from the research and work he and his subordinates had done for the meeting. He had read most all of them through, or at least leafed through the pages, browsing the records for anything that could have possibly been important. He had compiled all of the occasions and incidents where something seemed out of the ordinary, though many of the dates and unit names he had come across were correct, at least on paper, there were a few here and there that referenced units or soldiers that didn't exist in any of the other records. Jarvan had pulled the odd ones out and set them aside, doing his best to try and cross reference existing units here and there to find anything he could have missed.

Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from his desk, looking to the bookshelf he had repurposed to serve as a board to plot his findings upon. He parted the tapestry that hung over top of the bookshelf, hiding it from common view, revealing the web of deceit he had been slowly trying to decipher. A winding trail of scraps of paper, notes on each, had been pinned along the wall with thumbtacks, each holding firm against the wood of the shelves or the spine of the many ancient books that littered his shelves. Snaking along the papers, string marked the strange occurrences and the events he considered the most important.

Jarvan started at the top, setting his jaw and frowning darkly as he read the notes scribbled on the square of parchment. The first note read _'Birth of Swain. -50 CLE?' _Jarvan frowned. There was no recorded date of Swain in any of the Demacian archives, but he had tracked back the furthest report of the phantom units he could find around thirty years before the establishment of the Institute of War. He had extrapolated about twenty years, because swain could have been anywhere in the age range of fifty to seventy and he was erring on the side of Swain getting the benefit of the doubt. The first recorded event he had found with a mystery unit was during the last great border war between Demacia and Noxus, thirty years or so before the establishment of the Institute.

The mystery unit had been a company that didn't seem to exist and had smashed through the flanks of the Demacian Defensive line, posted along the border between Noxus and Demacia. Records pointed out several different fallacies as far as information about the company was concerned, though the only things available were what had been gathered by scouts before the unit retreated and disappeared again. While the Demacians had scrambled to repair their defensive lines, little had been done to monitor or track the company and it had disappeared. The only real, hard bit of information they had been able to gather was that the unit was not a special forces unit as initial reports had suspected. The standard Noxian uniforms had been observed being worn by the company that had appeared and disappeared again, and only standard arms and armor had been employed. The smacked of Swain, who was infamous for his intuitive tactical sense for finding the weakest point in enemy lines and breaking straight through, but the strangest thing that had stood out to Jarvan was the fact that the unit had retreated and disappeared as quickly as it had first appeared. They had struck hard and fast, inflicting a multitude of casualties and driving a spike deep into the heart of the Demacian formations. Then they had simply vanished. Jarvan had looked for any other occurrences with a unit that displayed even remotely similar tactics or actions, but there had been nothing for him to find.

Jarvan glowered as he moved towards the second occurrence on his trail, tracing his finger along the string.

"Second occurrence: Marshes of Kaladoun." Jarvan frowned as he looked at the map he had posted on the wall next to his trail of information. The marshes were located north east of Demacia, serving as one of the largest tributaries of the Serpentine river which ran north to the small port town of Kaladoun and deposited into the Conqueror's Sea. The massive, slow moving was fed with hundreds of small tributaries, many of which started from the lowlands east of Demacia, such as the Bubbling Bog and the Howling Marsh. Both the marsh and the bog were sites of ancient battles, the peat thick with nutrients from decomposed bodies. Jarvan turned back to his notes about the Marshes of Kaladoun, a frown returning to his face.

_Minus twenty-seven CLE: disappearance of Personis and Fulcore platoons of the Second Battalion's Archron Company. _The company had been dispatched into the Marshes on one of the many regular sweeps of the area to ensure no Noxian units were looking to penetrate the Demacian lines for a straight shot at the capital. The bogs were misty and nigh-impassible, but that hadn't stopped smugglers or refugees from trying to cross them for entrance to or fro Demacia before, and Demacian Command wasn't willing to risk it. Jarvan himself had the displeasure of taking a unit into the Marshes early in his career, to try and rescue a family who had gotten trapped in the bog. The scene had been grizzly when they had finally arrived, the bog beasts having devoured the family, only leaving blood and mud splattered possessions flung around a smashed raft. Jarvan shivered, trying desperately to banish the memory. The bog beasts had only left scraps of cloth. A dangerous cross between a bear and a crocodile, the bog beasts were massive territorial predators who protected the marshes. They were the stuff of legends and nightmares, and their simple name 'bog beasts' had stuck.

He turned back to his notes after running a hand over his face. Kaladoun was not something he maintained fond memories about. The two platoons had been doing a routine sweep of the marshes when it had supposedly run into a congregation of bog beasts and had been wiped out. The curious parts were notes from the officers who had overseen the attempted recovery of Fulcore and Personis platoons. The Captain, an officer Bithowzer', charged with investigating the disappearances had reported the blood splatter and remnants of the boats the platoons had been using had been surprisingly uniform in their destruction, as if they had been destroyed in exactly the same manner, which indicated that it was possible the bog beasts had either been lucky or the boats had been taken out by a single creature one by one. The officer had dismissed it, and so had Jarvan at first, but there was one thing that had stood out to him about the officers report. The Captain had made a specific note about a flock of ravens. Most creatures avoided the bog completely, even birds, but the ravens hadn't fled.

Jarvan suspected the birds had either belonged or were under some sort of spell of Swain's, but there was no proof or any follow up, only the messily scrawled note that had been jotted down in the margins of the captains report. Jarvan had put two and two together and he had realized that it was likely humans that had killed the men, rather than bog beasts. Jarvan traced his finger along a piece of string that diverged from the main trail from the Kaladoun Note, leading to another scrap of paper. The note on the scrap read '_Death of Captain Bithowzer, mental insanity._' When Jarvan had looked into the background of the Captain Bithowzer, he had found reports from his sudden admittance into the Demacian General Hospital, under sudden pleas of insanity and beasts tormenting his dreams. He had been called _'extremely down to Runeterra_' and _'exceptionally competent_' by previous officers, so the sudden mental breakdown had seemed out of place to Jarvan. He had tried to find out more about the officer, but his trail struck a dead end as he had searched. Bithowzer had committed suicide, overdosing while in the hospital. There was no indication of what sort of medication that he had used, but the report from the hospital was surprisingly gruesome as well, stating the officer had smashed both hands open and broken multiple bones in his hands to break open a medicine cabinet from which the drugs had been taken just outside his room. The man had managed to kill a night nurse by ripping her throat out after crying out in pain. The entire scene was disturbing, and the report still sent shivers down Jarvan's spine.

Jarvan ran his fingers down the rest of the string trail to where it exploded into numerous other reports at the very bottom, all dead ends. The entire thing was a series of strange occurrences, disappearances, mysterious Noxian Military units that didn't seem to exist and the progressive death of witnesses here and there. Jarvan shook his head, examining the different pieces of the puzzle that seemed to lead to nowhere. He glowered, looking down to the most recent occurrences, a cluster of about ten that seemed out of place. He ran his hand over one in particular, hesitating as he glared at the furthest down, just above waist height.

_DDS Excursion. Lost with all hand in the Conqueror's Sea, off the Freljordian Coast. Noxian-Zaunite necromancy_. Jarvan frowned. The trail ended there, but there were a number of different other notes that lead off from the scrap of paper. All sorts of odd things that had made the news and seemed to be related, though Jarvan could hardly tie any of the definitively to the destruction of the Excursion. Short of some sort of cargo manifest or something, the trail seemed to be utterly cold, frozen on the shores of the Freljord.

Jarvan crossed his arms as he looked over the bits of string that ran outwards from the Excursion. The remains of Sion, the undead champion of Noxus, had been stolen by an invasion not more than a year previous, retrieved under the command of Katarina Du Couteau. Supposedly, the ax-wielding monster who had been put on display to show the foolishness of Noxians who would dare attack Demacia in this day and age. Rumor said he had been brought back to life using Noxian Necromancy, but all that Jarvan had to go on was a newspaper clipping. He had looked for any record of the report regarding the theft of the remains, but there was nothing to be found in Demacian records. Jarvan had tried to request information from the DSB, but with his current house arrest keeping him trapped in his quarters, there had been no sympathy from any of his men or the guards who had been keeping him under watch at the time. Another dead end.

The next scrap of paper he settled on was something he had recovered from the reports from Kalamanda rather than actual Demacian records from the Archives. Security Forces of the Institute of War had been attacked during the night a handful of months before Jarvan had passed through the region. A soldier had died in the attack defending the garrison south of Kalamanda, just above the entrance to Mogron Pass. What little information Demacia had managed to get from the Institute had hardly served to help Jarvan's investigation, only a few notes on the attackers, mostly that they were deformed humanoids that were smaller than normal humans and while their numbers had been small, they had passed through, taking some casualties. While Jarvan didn't think it was something Swain had been responsible for, he hadn't ruled out the fact that it had been engineered to draw attention from somewhere else. Jarvan pondered the occurrence for a few moments but glowered, shaking his head as he moved to the next. Without any information, the report was another dead end.

The next note Jarvan had made was again tied to Kalamanda. A bar brawl in the Hasty Hammer Tavern that had erupted in the late evening of a Saturday had drawn his attention because there didn't seem to be any claims of who started the incident. Demacian and Noxian forces were notorious for constantly blaming each other for starting conflicts, but here, it just seemed as if the conflict had started from nothing. He frowned. It had taken the entire Kalamanda Constabulary, several local miners and two League Champions, Garen and Katarina, to break up the fight. While on the surface, it hadn't looked out of the ordinary, Jarvan had dug a bit deeper and tried to find out if any other crimes had occurred that evening. As he had looked around, the startling realization he had made was the both Demacian and Kalamandan attention had solely been concentrated on the tavern brawl. Hours upon hours of crime could have occurred, and though no investigations had followed, Jarvan had a sinking suspicion that something that happened in the time frame. What it could have been Jarvan didn't know, but as he let his finger hover on the pin that held the paper to his spider plot of theories, he had to wonder if this was his best bet to follow.

Jarvan tried to snarl in anger as he spun away, his frustrations manifesting aloud as he leaned heavily on the desk and shook his head. Jarvan raised a fist and stuck the surface of his desk, bouncing the contents with a rattle. "If only I could get out of this goddamned room!"

Jarvan's mind had been racing over the last few days, be it rehashing his growing resentment towards his father, his desire to see Shyvana, his worries over Forsythe, or the incredible itch to uncover what was going on in Noxus. The map he had created had helped keep his mind busy but there were so many loose ends he was now only growing frustrated. Jarvan hesitated as he glared down at two scraps of paper he had yet to post. He pushed himself up off the desk and palmed both pieces of paper, the dark frown he wore deepening. He turned back to his map and held both pieces of paper up. On the first piece of paper, the notes read '_Disappearance of Marcus Du Couteau leads to promotion of Swain.'_ Jarvan had a sinking feeling that this was one of the most important occurrences to date, but he still couldn't directly tie the event into his trail of mysteries. It didn't help that the date of the actual disappearance he had been given by Katarina didn't match the reports given from the news by Noxian public records or what Demacian intelligence had managed to gather. Jarvan growled as he looked over some of the different notes he found possible to tie it to, be it his capture and attempted execution over two years previous, or something more recent such as the disappearance of the Excursion. Without any information, there was nothing he could do to place it, and for now the scrap of paper didn't have a place on the board, it was simply another mystery upon mysteries. Jarvan wished he could ask Katarina about the issue, but that would be tantamount to treason, and treason led to death, something Jarvan didn't really feel like dealing with at the moment, especially considering his current predicament.

The other was possibly the single largest occurrence that had yet to not find a place on his board. '_Noxian-Ionian rematch.'_ That was the only thing that Jarvan had scribbled onto the paper, the rest was self explanatory. Outcries from Ionia had prompted a response from Noxus, and in a move that surprised every constituent of Valoran, General Boram Darkwill had consented to allow Ionia a chance to reclaim their freedom. Again, Jarvan felt his frustrations at a lack of information. The decision had completely blindsided Demacia as a whole, and while there had been huge amounts of public outcry in support of Ionia, Noxus had never been a city-state to wither before pressure from the populace, for not even political pressure had swayed them before. Jarvan wished he could speak to Katarina again, the huge number of questions that were shrouded in the fog of prospective war and strife continued to muddle Jarvan's map.

Though there were two large gaps that remained between the disappearance of Du Couteau and the Ionian Rematch, the scariest part that Jarvan was in the dark about was the long term goal. With the steady gain of power, he could only see the long term goal revolving around the Eternal General, Boran Darkwill, and with it, the helm of Noxus. With such a strong nation under his control, Swain and the mysterious 'L' Katarina suspected him of working with, there would be risk of a major war. As decisive and aggressive as Swain was, there was a certain amount of fear that Demacia would be in trouble. If Jarvan wasn't able to head this off at the pass, to stop the issue from growing worse, the sanctity of his nation, family and life would be at risk.

_But why risk something as foolish as war?_

A knock at the door interrupted Jarvan's brooding.

Jarvan frowned, glancing at the clock, realizing that it wasn't quite time for his lunch yet and he hadn't been notified that there was a visitor coming. For someone to make a unscheduled visit like this, they would have to be extremely powerful. Jarvan could only put his finger of three of four people total that could do something like this; the king, the queen, General Lorcan or Councilor Crownguard. He sighed as he covered his map with a tapestry that had hung over the wall mounted book cases where he had started plotting his discoveries. Jarvan pocketed the two scraps of paper he had been holding and then stood up a bit straighter, smoothing his uniform out.

"Enter." Though Jarvan uttered the word like a command, he knew that if too much time passed, the guards would enter regardless of what he said. The door opened and Sergeant Delancey stepped inside, saluting him regardless of the fact that he was technically in her custody. "How can I assist you, Sergeant? I don't think it's quiet time for lunch yet." Jarvan stood stiffly watching the sergeant with an even gaze.

"Apologies for the short notice, sir." Delancey said, with a bit of a grin emerging on her face. "But orders from the top. You're to be released from custody at once."

Jarvan blinked several times and stood up straighter, surprise clear on his face. "What?"

"Yes, sir." Delancey said, her smile growing wider. "You've got two visitors in the mean time."

"I, well, show them in then." Jarvan sank backwards a bit, leaning heavily on his desk. _What changed? _

"Long time, no see, Captain Lightshield." A short woman with long, snow white hair stepped through the doorway, grinning happily as she snapped off a salute. She wore the crisp fatigues of an off duty palace guardsman, a heavy issue winter cloak swept back over one shoulder.

"Alicia?" Jarvan said, blinking, surprise clear on his face again. He shook his head and grinned. "It's Lieutenant Colonel, now, actually." Jarvan said shrugging as she grinned toothily. "What are you doing here?"

"Congratulations on the promotion." Alicia said, glancing towards the doorway. "But I didn't come for a reunion. I brought a friend who was too shy to come alone."

"A friend?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow. _Who would she bring that wanted to visit me?_

"Stop worrying and come in here already!" Alicia said, looking into the outer room. She posted her fists on her hips and frowned angrily, glaring a bit as she stared into the room beyond. Jarvan couldn't hear the response that got uttered, but from the look on Alicia face and the laughter that Alicia let out told him something was up. "Oh don't worry about it! You look adorable like this." Another pause and Alicia turned to Jarvan rolled her eyes and sighed. "She's been nervous about this all day. I've been trying to convince her not to worry but she's still iffy about the clothes I picked out for her."

Jarvan frowned, wondering just who Alicia was talking about. _Who...?_

"Fine." The voice muttered. "I still feel ridiculous." Jarvan's heart stopped.

Shyvana stepped clear of the door. She was blushing furiously as she stepped into the room, a long dark skirt cascading around her, a heavy fur lined cloak on her shoulders, hiding a simple overcoat that shown the Demacian colors, matching the dark blue scarf that was wrapped around her neck. Her red hair had been pulled back into a tighter braid than Jarvan had ever seen her wearing. Her hair was bright red and clean, and hair clips littered her hair, trying to keep it tamed. Jarvan felt color begin to burn his cheeks as he started at her, his jaw slightly ajar. Shyvana's magenta eyes sparkled brilliantly as she smiled at him.

"Hi, Jarvan." Shyvana said with a small voice.

"What do you think?" Alicia said, a broad grin on her face. "I made her clean up and dressed her up to come and see you as soon as we heard you were going to be released. She was as giddy as a school girl all the way up here... I don't know what suddenly changed." Alicia tapped Shyvana on the back, giving her a push, but Shyvana's face simply burned a brighter shade of red.

"Be quiet, June..." Shyvana hissed nervously. She tried to meet Jarvan's gaze but her face burned an even brighter red, nearly the color of her hair. Jarvan watched as a few stray snowflakes from the top of her head started to steam. Jarvan clicked his jaw shut and felt a smile grow on his face.

"Hey, Shy..." Jarvan said, struggling for words. Tears began to well in Shyvana's eyes as she looked up to meet his eyes, desperately struggling to wipe them away before they formed. "W-what's wrong?" Jarvan took half a step forward as Shyvana screwed her face up and fit Jarvan with an angry look.

"You!" She shouted, taking Jarvan by surprise. He stumbled backwards, hitting his desk and he had to lean heavily on it to not tumble over. The admission had staggered him.

"Me?" Jarvan gasped, blinking rapidly. "What'd I do?"

"You never once came to visit me!" Shyvana snapped, struggling to hold the tears back. "I haven't seen you since we got here! Is that how you treat the woman who loves you?" She took a step forward as she had to wipe her eyes again. She shook her head and took another half step forward, glaring at Jarvan. "It's been horrible! Everyone but June treats me like some more of freak!"

"Hold on..." Jarvan stammered, raising his hands defensively as if they would block the torrent of words Shyvana was throwing at him.

"You're such a..." She stammered, her voice trailing off. She looked to the ground as she tugged on her braid, tucking her chin into her scarf to hide her face, long red bangs hiding her magenta eyes. "Such a..."

"Shyvana?" Jarvan said gently. Shyvana suddenly sprinted forward, leaping at Jarvan and flying through the air at him with arms outstretched. "Hold on—WHOA!" Shyvana wrapped her arms around his neck as he yelped, the two of them colliding. She barreled Jarvan backwards over his desk, sending him crashing to the ground on the opposite side.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan started to say but she pushed herself up to stare down at him. Tears dripped from her magenta eyes, her hair hanging around them like a curtain.

"Shut up!" She said fiercely, her face a mess as she looked as if she were about to completely burst into tears."You... you're such an idiot!" Shyvana pushed her face into Jarvan's neck and hugged him close, breathing in his scent as her shoulder quaked. Shyvana pushed herself up and glared down at Jarvan. He blinked away the pain he felt in his tail frown hitting the ground, and stared up at Shyvana as tears now poured down her face. She tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming, dripping down her face.

"Shy..." Jarvan said softly.

"I missed you so much!" Shyvana wailed as she dropped onto Jarvan and wrapped her arms around his neck again. "Idiot!"

"Hey now, don't be mean..." Jarvan said, grinning as he wrapped his arms around the dragoness, pulling her warm little body against his, letting the warmth flow through him. Shyvana pushed herself up and sniffed, trying to wipe the tears away.

"I should beat the tar out of you for doing this... getting yourself arrested." Shyvana pouted, glancing away, her face a bright red color. Jarvan chuckled as he cupped her cheek in his hand wiping a tear away with his thumb. Shyvana nuzzled his hand as a smile broke through on her face and she giggled a bit as she lowered her face down to Jarvan and kissed him deeply.

"I missed you too." Jarvan said with a crooked grin when Shyvana finally had to come up for air. Shyvana laid her head against Jarvan's chest and closed her eyes, smiling happily as she pulled herself against Jarvan, content to be back in his arms.

Jarvan let his head fall back against the ground, smiling.

_Life is already looking up._


	15. Chapter 14: Date

"So where are we headed?" Shyvana asked as she stared skyward, watching as heavy snowflakes twirled down around her. She wore a large smile and she opened her mouth every once in a while to let a snowflake land on her tongue. Jarvan grinned as he watched her bounce about, doing her best to catch snowflakes, but the heat of her breath often melted them before they landed, clouds of steam emanating from her mouth as she huffed angrily when a large one completely floated past her tongue.

"Just to visit some old friends." Jarvan said softly, still watching as Shyvana danced ahead and struggled to catch a massive snowflake. She giggled happily as she finally caught it, though it melted almost instantly on her tongue. The streets weren't heavily packed; many people not willing to venture out in the heavy snow. Though it had been falling through most of the night before and into the midday, there wasn't much upon the streets. The Demacian Works Department was doing their best to keep the streets open and clear, using magic to move the snow out of the streets. Jarvan could see that the snow was nearly knee deep off the beaten path.

"So. Where are you from?" Delancey strode slightly ahead of them and she looked slightly bored as she walked down the street.

"How about you explain why you're following us?" Shyvana said with a frown on her face as she wrapped an arms tighter around Jarvan's arm, gripping his hand.

"Well, technically, you're following me." Delancey said with a cheeky grin. Shyvana stamped her foot, but Jarvan cut her off before the dragoness could snap a retort back. Jarvan chuckled softly and gestured to Delancey.

"Shyvana, meet Sergeant Vivian Delancey." Jarvan said, coming to a halt outside a large gate. Shyvana frowned slightly at the blonde haired woman who's obnoxiously blue locks bounced with every step. Shyvana watched it with a bit of annoyance in her expression, but Delancey turned to face the dragoness and smiled. "Delancey, meet Shyvana."

"It's a pleasure to met you, ma'am." Delancey said, bowing. "Please, just call me Del." When she stood back up straight, she extended her hand from beneath her cloak, revealing her armor and uniform.

"Hello." Shyvana said hesitantly, but she accepted Delancey's hand and shook it. Shyvana glanced uncomfortably at Jarvan who was watching the exchange. He could see that Shyvana was frowning and offered her a smile that withered quickly.

"Sergeant Delancey is on my staff." Jarvan said trying not to look too grim as his face fell, looking up at the gate.

"What he's trying to say is that I'm his bodyguard." Delancey said with a grin. "One of them at least."

"Bodyguard?" Shyvana said with a frown. "Why do you need a bodyguard?" Shyvana wore a worried look as she gazed at Jarvan. He looked a bit sheepish but shrugged.

"I don't _need_ one to be honest." He chuckled softly. "But it was something my father insisted upon, and it's not like I had a choice."

"Whatever you say, sir." Delancey shrugged. "We have arrived though. Perhaps we should go and pay our respects?"

"Oh... yes, of course." Jarvan said, the enthusiasm draining from his voice. Shyvana looked up at him and frowned. Jarvan's gaze passed over top of her head, looking as something distant. Shyvana squeezed his hand but Jarvan's hand remained still.

"What is this place?" Shyvana said, her voice small. Delancey looked to Jarvan, but his expression had hardened and his mouth had thinned out into an impassible line.

"This is the Memorial of the Fallen." Delancey said reverently. "This is where Demacia pays in memoriam to those who have died away from Demacia on the field of battle. It is a sacred place for sending off the fallen and serves as a reminder to those who have served Demacia to the fullest, paying the ultimate price. To us Demacians... it is tantamount to holy ground."

Jarvan started slowly up the sloping path as it wound up the snow covered hill. Shyvana followed him as they ascended the cliff, letting him lead her up the path. Jarvan paused part was up though, there was someone already standing at the summit of the hill. Jarvan's hand twitched slightly, and Shyvana looked up at him, seeing pain thick in his eyes caused a pang of grief to strike her heart. The person who was standing atop the hill slowly moved past them, down the hill.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said softly, tugging on his arm under his cloak.

"Hmm?" Jarvan looked down at her and she could see tears starting to form in his eyes. He wore a smile, though it was cold and distant as he looked upon her. Shyvana felt her throat begin to thicken.

_You're supposed to be the strong one..._ Shyvana shook her head and gently wrapped her arms around him, remembering how he had comforted her in the past. It was now her turn to return the favor. "It's alright, Jarvan." She said softly, looking up at him again. The pained look on his face had deepened, but his eyes were a bit warmer, as if the hug Shyvana offered him reminded him that he wasn't alone right now. "Take you time. There's no need to rush this, we have all day."

"Thank you." Jarvan said as he wrapped his arms around Shyvana, holding her close, nuzzling her hair. Shyvana couldn't help but blush, but at the same time she felt fuzzy and warm inside. "I think I'm okay now." The prince said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He released Shyvana from his embrace, but he held kept a firm grasp on her hand. Shyvana could see part of herself reflected in his eyes now as he looked back up to the summit of the monument: he looked like a young child, afraid of everything around him. Shyvana knew that terror, that feeling that the entire world is out to get you. Shyvana gave his hand a squeeze and Jarvan closed his eyes for a brief moment before he started back up the steps.

The summit was sparse, but the tracks in the snow showed just how many people had been up here despite the heavy snow that was coming down. Jarvan paused for a moment pulling the bottle he was carrying out from under his arm and glancing at it before he took a deep breath and approached the edge of the flat, open area that marked the monument. Two guards stood at attention on either side of a flag pole where the Demacian Flag whipped and snapped in the wind. It glowed brightly with some sort of magical illumination as Jarvan ground to a stop and snapped off a stiff salute. He held it for a long period of time before he dropped the gesture, a weary look passing over his face.

Shyvana hugged his arm encouragingly and Jarvan nodded his thanks, stepping past the flag to where the monument began to crumble away to the sheer cliff. The waves crashing against the rocks below reverberated up through their boots periodically, the sound and smell of the surf below cathartic in nature. Jarvan stopped mere inches from the hundred foot drop, simply staring out over the sea. Shyvana leaned forward and looked over the edge, surprise showing on her face.

"You mean every one of these flowers..." Her voice trailed off.

"Every flower is a life that was lost for the glory of Demacia and the protection of her people." Delancey said after a few moments of silence from Jarvan. Shyvana glanced back over her shoulder at the blonde woman who stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest. Shyvana slowly let her hand slip out of Jarvan's hand and went back to stand beside the sergeant, fidgeting nervously as she tried to hold her hands in front of her. She shook the snow from her hood as glanced back at Jarvan.

"Jarvan has lost more that most men of this age." Delancey said quietly, so as not to disturb the prince as he stood at the edge of the cliff, letting the sea wind caress him.

"There are millions of flowers down there though..." Shyvana said softly, glancing towards the ocean. Flowers floated along the surface of the water as far as the eye could see, drifting along the surface in an almost solid sheet as the waves slowly dispersed them.

"Demacia's past isn't without blood or conflict." Delancey said as a bit of sadness washed over her. "We say we're better than everyone else... but when it comes down to it, we're just a violent and bloody as anyone else in Valoran." Delancey shrugged.

"What about you?" Shyvana said quietly, looking at Delancey. Surprise crossed her face but Delancey offered the dragoness a small smile.

"I lost my mother to an attack on a field hospital many years ago." Delancey said with a shrug. "My father raised me the only way he knew how." With a small jerk of her arm, a slender blade slid from her sleeve. She palmed the blade and twirled it around her index and middle fingers, carving a glittering series of loops in the air before it vanished back up her sleeve in another quick, clean motion. "I long ago got over my grief, though."

"Oh..." Shyvana said quietly, looking back to Jarvan.

"The Lieutenant Colonel, the prince, he carries a burden much heavier than most in this day and age." Delancey said, watching the prince as he stood at the edge of the cliff still swaying slightly.

"What do you mean?" Shyvana said softly.

"Sometimes it may not appear like it, but this is an age of peace and prosperity for Valoran." Delancey said, a small frown crossing over her face. "Her people are rich in character and possession, and there is little conflict to stain the ground with blood. In that regard, Jarvan is a bit of a pariah. He is still loved by his nation, of course, but in this world, there are those that resent him for what he did to their families."

Shyvana stared at Jarvan, her heart aching in her chest. "You mean..."

"Yes. Exemplar company." Delancey said softly, nodding. "I believe he carries survivors guilt for the loss of his company. He's haunted by the loss of the men he saw as brothers and sons, and the frustration he faces is like getting mocked by his very survival."

"I see..." Shyvana said softly. "I wish I knew what I could do..."

"Don't worry about it." Delancey said, putting a hand on Shyvana shoulder and offering her a brave smile. "Jarvan's been happier seeing you than I've seen him in the last week. If your presence is all it takes to put a smile on his face, then all you need to do is be there for him." Shyvana blushed but nodded. The popping of the cork drew her attention back to the edge of the cliff. Jarvan extended his arm and held the bottle of wine out and slowly began to pour it out. The wind stole the stream away, shattering the flow into thousands of small beads of liquid, each like a tiny gem stone. Jarvan watched them fall out of sight, lost amid the blowing snow. He turned and set the bottle down next to the flag pole, kneeling for a few moments before he pushed himself back to his feet with a heavy sigh.

Jarvan turned towards Shyvana when a voice called out to him. "Lieutenant Colonel Lightshield?"

Jarvan paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"Valentine?" Jarvan turned, surprise on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." The young blonde woman wore a heavy cloak that had obscured most of her form, the heavy hood pulled low over her face against the wind and snow. She pulled it back to reveal emerald green eyes and brown hair that was pulled back into a bun on the back of her head. She smiled softly at the prince.

"Who is that?" Shyvana said, pointing to the woman that Jarvan had now begun talking to.

"That's Valentine Isaacs." Delancey said, glancing over at Shyvana. Shyvana felt shock wash over her. _Valin had a daughter?_

"I..." Shyvana felt conflicted as she watched Jarvan smile at the young woman and give her a hug. He waved goodbye and then turned back to where Shyvana and Delancey stood waiting.

"Thank you for waiting." Jarvan said with a smile. There was sadness in his eyes that Shyvana hadn't seen before, and as Jarvan took her hand in his and started to lead her down the hill, Shyvana couldn't get the green eyes of the woman from her mind. The soft brown hair, delicate skin and emerald eyes, everything a man could want in a normal young woman. Shyvana was amazed at how cute the young woman was. Valin had been hard and crude with good intentions, but the young woman they had just parted ways with was anything but. Shyvana felt something dark in the pit of her stomach as she glanced back over her shoulder to where the woman was left standing alone on the cliff.

The journey back into the city had been a quiet one, Jarvan strolling a bit more carefree, his attitude decidedly brighter and cheerful. Delancey looked conflicted about something, lost in thought. She was constantly glancing over her shoulder, but she looked unconvinced about what ever she was worried about.

They ended up on Merchant's Street, the colorful decorations and bountiful smells serving to improve Shyvana's mood as she and Jarvan strolled along, arm in arm. Though Shyvana was busy taking in the beauty of the decorations and the festive cheer, she had started to notice that people were staring at them as they walked down the street. Shyvana blushed and tried not to notice it, but the staring and comments were getting louder and more brazen.

"Um, Jarvan, people are staring." Shyvana whispered, pulling herself closer to him.

"Just ignore them." Jarvan said with a confident smile, glancing down at the dragoness. Though Jarvan tried to play it down, he was obviously enjoying the attention, smiling proudly as he strode down the street with Shyvana on his arm. Shyvana blushed a bit deeper shade of red, trying to sink her face inside her scarf as they walked, pulling her hood a bit lower over her face.

"They're not staring at you." Delancey said, trying not to grin at the dragoness's embarrassment. She patted Shyvana on the shoulder and tried not to laugh as Shyvana glanced back at her, red faced as steam rose off her head. "Well... maybe they are a bit. Mostly him." She said, pointing at Jarvan.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly, still trying to hide in her scarf.

"Hmm?" He mused, grinning.

"News about the Prince travels fast here in Demacia. Especially considering he was gone for two years and suddenly turned up again." Delancey smiled. "Rumors about his personal interests travel almost as fast. You'll probably be the talk of the city as of tomorrow morning."

"I... I don't know if I like the sound of that." Shyvana said nervously.

"Don't listen to her." Jarvan said, waving Delancey off and grinning crookedly.

"What would you know, you haven't been in Demacia in two years." Delancey said with a smirk. "News about the royal family travels faster than news about the Institute of War. Everybody cares and doesn't care at the same time." She shrugged. "It's a rather silly obsession of ours."

"Oh be silent." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes.

"See, it's true and he can't deny it." Delancey said, chuckling.

"Well, considering the gossipy tendencies of Demacian residents didn't change in two years, I'm surprised that the role of a bodyguard changed so much! Here I thought you were supposed to be protecting me and my date while we enjoyed ourselves, rather than making derisive joke after derisive joke! Oh how the times have changed." Jarvan said, injecting sarcasm into his voice.

"I have to ask, does he treat you the same way he treats his subordinates?" Delancey said rolling her eyes with a playful grin. "Lots of huffing, yelling and way to much arguing?"

"Well..." Shyvana said glancing up at the prince and then letting an elfin grin slip onto her face. "There's always a lot of attitude, but then again, he's a prince. Our arguments tend to involve decidedly less clothes though."

"Shy!" Jarvan said, blushing as he glanced down at the dragoness. She wore a proud smile as the prince tried to appear angry but he couldn't keep the smile from his face as Delancey nearly collapsed from laughing so hard.

"Oh wow." She said, clutching her stomach as she struggled to catch her breath and stay on two feet. "I don't think I've ever seen you so out of your element, your highness. I am loving this." Delancey turned to Shyvana. "Any time you guys go out, make sure I'm there to watch. This is so much fun."

"I'm going to bust you all the way back to private, Delancey." Jarvan growled, frowning slightly as he raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Delancey. She shrugged and struggled to regain her composure.

"Apologies, sir." Delancey said, grinning unapologetically. "It's just good to see you in such high spirits and all."

"Yes, well, thank you." Jarvan said, clearing his throat nervously, though both Delancey and Shyvana could see a smile on his face.

"So, Sergeant, where were you stationed before you were assigned to Jarvan's command?" Shyvana said, turning to look back at Delancey. She looked surprised, but smiled and shrugged.

"Nowhere important." Delancey smiled. "I served a few months with a border patrol unit, but I got shifted rearward after an incident with my commanding officer. There was a bit of a disagreement in the unit and, well, it didn't turn out great." A bit of a frown passed over her face and she glowered for a moment. She perked up immediately though, smiling overly cheerfully, but Shyvana could see a bit of frustration bunched in the corner of her eyes as she tried to keep her smile. "I got busted down to sergeant and was stuck, bouncing around from unit to unit in Military Command before I was assigned to Prince Jarvan." She chuckled softly. "I've been working under him for the past two weeks, more or less since he returned."

"I see." Shyvana said nodding thoughtfully. "What happened with your commander? It was my understanding that Demacia didn't tolerate insubordination..."

"There were... extenuating circumstances." Delancey said defensively. Shyvana frowned, curious, but she decided it was better not to push. Delancey looked hesitant at best. As if he could sense the conversation turning south, Jarvan slowed to a stop outside a shop and gestured to the building.

"We've arrived." Jarvan said proudly, looking up at the sign that hung over the door. Though it was colorfully decorated like all the other shops, trimmed with holly and fir, candles burning brightly in the windows, there was a decidedly older feeling to the building, as if it were slightly grayer than all the other buildings.

"'Blomgrum's'?" Shyvana said, reading the name on the sign. There was a faded Demacian crest on the sign, though there was something slightly off about the crest that Shyvana couldn't place.

"Yep." Jarvan said, grinning, leading her inside by the hand. "Come on, I have someone I'd like you to meet." As Jarvan started to lead her into the small shoppe, Shyvana stopped and peered through the window at intricate, inlaid swords, decorated with large gems that glimmered every shade of the rainbow, though much of it was covered in a fine layer of dust. Shyvana hesitated, but Jarvan's insistence finally won her over. They entered the small shop and were assaulted by a solid wave of warm air and the smell of coal smoke, iron and sulfur.

"Welcome to 'Blomgrum's' Armor shop." A small, large headed creature said from behind the cluttered shop counter. She disappeared behind the counter then reappeared from the side, pushing a pair of goggles up onto her head. She pulled a pair of heavy leather gloves off her hands and offered her small blue hand to Jarvan and then Shyvana in turn, nodding a wary greeting to Delancey who had followed them into the shop and stood waiting off to the side. When Shyvana took the diminutive blue creature's hand and shook it, she was surprised. While the creature's hand was just barely large enough to grasp Shyvana's palm, she had an incredibly strong grip.

_A Yordle? _Shyvana had heard stories but she had never met one before.

"Prince Lightshield." The creature said, after eying Shyvana up from the top of her head to her toes. She turned back to the prince and gazed at the crown he wore. "Problems with your armor?"

"None at all, Ambassador Poppy." Jarvan said, smiling. "It's in perfect condition, as always."

"Is that perfect by my description or by your description." The Yordle said with an even voice, not a trace of malice or annoyance in her voice. "You tend to return things broken and smashed to bits. I don't appreciate it when my armor that I work so hard to craft gets smashed." Jarvan grinned mischievously, and the Yordle shook her head. "I should have known. Bring it down here one of these days and I'll repair any major holes in it."

"I'll do that." Jarvan said nodding. "But I didn't come to inquire about my own armor."

"Oh? Not shopping for yourself?" Poppy said, narrowing her eyes and raising an eyebrow. "Then what brings you to my little shop here in the middle of Demacia?" She paused for a moment and then looked back to Shyvana. "I assume you're reason for coming involves this one then." She wiped her hands on a rag and then lifted a chest plate from a pile of armor. She handed it to Shyvana. She gestured to Shyvana and then paused, and taking a step back looking, Shyvana up and down again as the dragoness held the plate to her chest. "Armor or Arms?" She frowned and gestured for the plate back, which Shyvana handed over.

"Armor, actually." Jarvan said with a grin. "I take it you've heard the rumors?"

"Aye, but I've never been much of one for gossip." Poppy said, nodding slowly as she disappeared behind the desk and popped back up into view after what sounded like climbing a few stairs. She had already begun to browse the shelves behind her, looking for armor that would fit Shyvana.

"Point made." Jarvan said evenly, a thin smile on his face. "I'd like to commission a full set of armor for her, full steel, and a full dragon's skin mail liner. Poppy paused and glanced back over her shoulder at Jarvan and frowned just a bit.

"So, I suppose the rumors are true then." Poppy said, looking back to Shyvana with an almost mystical smile on her face. She hopped down from behind her perch behind the counter and reappeared in front of the desk much quicker than before, a smile on her face now. "Are you really a dragon, young lady?" She said, taking Shyvana's hand, turning it over and inspecting her palm as if she were going to find a label that titled her as such.

"Well, half dragon, half human." Shyvana said indignantly. She blushed a little bit, but there was enough offense in her voice that Jarvan grinned and Poppy took a step back, smiling.

"Pardon, Ma'am." Poppy said bowing. "I meant no offense. Dragons are merely a fascination of mine, their armored skin at least. I am Poppy, only daughter of Blomgrum, and appointed ambassador to Demacia from the Yordle capital of Bandle City."

"And you run an armor shop?" Shyvana said, surprise clear on her face. Poppy laughed and nodded happily.

"Indeed I do!" Poppy said with a proud smile. "My father, Blomgrum, taught me the trade and even though I am appointed to work with the Demacian Legislative Council, I spend my spare time crafting armor. Some of it I sell, though most can not afford my rates." She shrugged. "It helps me think." She disappeared behind her desk, but this time she did not reappear. Rattling metal and quaking piles of armor could be heard as she shuffled through pile after of pile of various armored bits and pieces.

"So," She said, sticking her head out from behind the counter, a small grin tugging at the corner of her calm face. "You came with the block headed prince," She squinted at Shyvana once more and then here eyes opened wide. She turned to Jarvan. "That must make her your new consort?"

"Indeed." Jarvan said in a measured tone.

The Yordle chuckled, looking to Shyvana. "Tell me, has the prince managed to ruin my armor yet again?"

Shyvana nodded, glancing up at Jarvan with an imp-like smile showing on her pink, wind kissed face. "Yes." Shyvana laughed. "It's hardly recognizable."

"Bloody hell." Poppy said with a forlorn sigh. "Anyways, I suppose you wouldn't have come to me if you needed simple armor. Tell me about your fighting style and what you need in a set of armor."

"Well..." Shyvana said hesitantly. Jarvan put a hand onto her shoulder and nodded, smiling. "I think it will need to stay with me when I transform. It will also need to be heat resistant to a high degree." Shyvana frowned. "Flexibility is also important."

"I see." Poppy said nodding. "Dual stage armor?" She frowned and glanced around the shop, looking for various pieces she could use. "This will be a rather difficult set." Poppy mused as she looked Shyvana up and down. She stepped around her and looked her back up and down and then frowned. "Two stage armor is not overly difficult. High ranking paladins and knights have often come to me for armor that can change its form when mounted or dismounted." She paused, tapping her fingers along a steel breast plate. "I suppose it would be prudent to get a look at this transformation before I get too far ahead of myself. I prefer knowing what exactly I'm working with."

"Uh... well." Shyvana said nervously, glancing around the shop.

"Perhaps it would be best not to do it in the shop." Jarvan said grinning.

"Yes, of course." Poppy said, nodding and tapping her finger upon her chin now. She glanced to the back of the shop and then waved for them to follow. "This way. There is a decent sized courtyard that we can use. It's secluded enough that we won't panic anyone."

"That sounds perfect." Jarvan said, chuckling. Shyvana nodded nervously but followed as they picked their way deeper into the shop. They passed a staircase and then emerged through a doorway into a large stone-flagon lined courtyard. They stood under a large awning, a glowing furnace, anvil and other pieces of smithing equipment stood warmed and ready for use along the wall. Snow had mounted up in the courtyard and was just starting to spill into the workspace that Poppy had set up for her smithing.

"Is this big enough?" She said, gesturing to the courtyard. Jarvan looked to Shyvana as she surveyed the area. She nodded as she glanced around and frowned slightly. She sighed and pulled her cloak from her shoulders and starting unbuttoning the blouse.

"Hold on a second..." Delancey said, her eyes growing wide, waving her hands slightly to forestall the stripping. "What are you doing?"

"Taking my clothes off?" Shyvana said, blinking, surprised. "I don't want to ruin them by transforming while I'm wearing them." Shyvana spoke as if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Well don't do it here!" Delancey protested, fitting Jarvan with a glare. "Ambassador, is there somewhere she can change?"

Poppy looked surprised as well, but burst into laughter after a few moments, nodding. "Sure. This way." She said gesturing for Shyvana to follow her. Shyvana blushed slightly but nodded, holding her cloak to her chest as she stepped after the Yordle back towards the building. When they were gone, Delancey turned towards Jarvan and fit him with a disapproving glare.

"I can't believe you were going to simply stand there and watch while she undressed herself in public!" She exclaimed. Jarvan blinked a few times, as if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Why wouldn't she undress?" Jarvan said with a frown. "It's plenty secluded back here..." He glanced around the courtyard. Not a single exposed window could be seen, they had all been shuttered closed against the winter storm. "...Besides. If she doesn't undress before transforming, she'd rip the clothes to ribbons and then what will she wear when we're done here?"

"Yes... but..." Delancey began to protest again, her face slightly flushed as she glanced away.

"If you think it indecent for her to expose herself to me, I've seen it all before." Jarvan said, frowning slightly.

"Sir!" Delancey snapped, her face now flushed. "I really didn't need to know that."

"What?" Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen her transform a number of times before..."

"That's not what I meant." Delancey said, running a hand over her face and sighing. "Sir, you need to keep it confined to the bed room now that you've returned to Demacia." She frowned. "You're putting undue stress on Miss Shyvana and you're going to make it difficult for yourself if you intend to have a future with her." Jarvan's gaze darkened.

"You seem to know something I don't." Jarvan tried to keep the menace from his voice, but there was more than enough growl in his voice to cause her to frown.

"To be blunt sir, I do'" Delancey said evenly. "You've been gone for a matter of years, so perhaps you've forgotten some of the responsibilities that come with being a nobleman. You are under scrutiny from all sides: your family, your people, the other nobles... you need to be mindful at the very least that anything that would draw attention to you normally will probably draw large amounts of trouble for you and Miss Shyvana."

Jarvan sighed, his shoulders sinking just a bit. "Yes, I suppose so." Jarvan glowered as he leaned against one of the wooden beams that held the shelter up. "It may be because I'm so used to being out in the wilds and small towns where people only see me as a warrior, not a leader, not a prince... but I became so used to being as intimate or as relaxed as I wanted to with Shyvana and the others." He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and expelling it explosively. "After all the stress of dealing with my father and the council I wanted to finally relax and spend some alone time with Shyvana." He wore a sad smile.

"I'm sorry about having to follow you around all day, sir." Delancey said, realizing just how out of line she had been. She snapped to attention. "Apologies sir! I didn't mean to speak out of place!"

"Forget it." Jarvan said, grinning wryly. "I believe the saying is 'It is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission'?" Jarvan shrugged. "You're right though, I have been playing much too fast and loose with the rules." He chuckled. "I suppose I've already started to pay for it with that nice long stint locked away under house arrest."

"Perhaps, sir." Delancey said grinning. "If you have any questions or anything you would need to know about the world, please, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jarvan said smiling. The door behind them opened and Shyvana emerged, dressed in her cloak, using one hand to hold the cloak closed and holding her clothes in the other. "Welcome back." Jarvan said, grinning. "That took a bit longer than I expected."

"I took a full set of measurements." Poppy said, nodding. "Armor like this has to be snug or else it can cause problems for the wearer." She paused looking to Jarvan. "You wear a bodysuit that your armor is affixed to, which prevents subtle changes in fittings and other issues. A suit of dragon's skin mail is much harder to craft and requires much more precise fittings."

"Of course." Jarvan said, grinning at Shyvana who blushed slightly. She looked around for somewhere to put her clothes down.

Delancey stepped up, holding her hands out. "I'll hold them for you."

"Oh, thank you." Shyvana said, handing the clothes off. She looked around nervously but took a deep breath. Jarvan set a hand on her shoulder and nodded at her. She smiled barely and the stepped gingerly towards the snow, wrinkling her nose up as she paused at the very edge. She took a deep breath and her cloak began to billow around her, heat beginning to pour off of her. She took a step forward towards the snow and steam began to enshroud her, rising from the ground around her like a veil. The steam began to rise up in a great pillar.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath, steam jetting from her nostrils as snow swirled down around her. It twirled and bounced around her like she was encased in a snow globe, the hot air that poured from her body starting to lift the snowflakes and tossing them away like confetti. She grasped at her head and shrunk down a bit, snarling as pain played across her face. Horns burst from her skull, extending and curving back, each one gleaming a boney silver color and razor sharp at the tip. Shyvana looked up and met Jarvan's measured gaze, diamond shaped pupils gleaming. Fire exploded around her and sent a billowing cloud of steam erupting into the air, casting an eerie haze over the courtyard, obscuring everything and anything from view.

"I swear, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that." Jarvan said as a shiver rand down his spine.

"You're telling me." Delancey said, her entire body quaking now, her eyes wide. "I had heard the stories... but part of me didn't believe them..."

As the steams settled and thinned, the scaly hide and vicious claws of a young dragon began to take shape as if they were coalescing out of the fog. Leathery skin was covered in places with armored scales, the glossy armor gleaming against the white snow. A mane of ruby red hair ran down the dragon's back and massive wings quivered, folded back out of the way, the massive claws at the front knocking snow aside like it was nothing. She moved forward with her powerful hind legs till her head hovered just outside the shelter, her magenta eyes blinking as she turned, diamond pupils dilating slightly as she looked in at the Ambassador, Jarvan and Delancey.

Jarvan ran a hand along Shyvana's nose affectionately, smiling at the massive dragoness. Shyvana rumbled softly, approvingly, as if she were purring.

"That's stunning." Poppy said excitedly. "I've never seen an actual dragon like this..." She shook her head and smiled.

"Perhaps you'd like to get started?" Shyvana rumbled. "It's cold out here."

"Right away!" Poppy said happily. Jarvan chuckled as Poppy nodded and went to grab a pencil and a pad of paper for notes and a tape measure to reference just how large parts of Shyvana were. She immediately began to scramble over Shyvana, wrapping the tape measure around her arms, her tail, her chest, anything and everything. Shyvana followed orders about 'life this' or 'lift that' as well as she could, as Jarvan stood next to her, stroking her nose affectionately. Delancey hung back out of the way, watching cautiously as if she were afraid. Jarvan waved her over and though hesitant, Delancey approached slowly.

"Shyvana won't hurt you." Jarvan said, chuckling.

"Don't worry." Shyvana rumbled with a nod, pulling her chops back into an admittedly terrifying smile. "I won't bite... much."

"I think I'm going to take a step back now." Delancey said with a nervous wince. Shyvana snorted, a cloud of steam billowing over Delancey like a rolling fog bank. She waved the steam away and coughed, posting her hands on her hips and frowning at the dragoness. Shyvana snorted and chuckled and even Jarvan had to grin.

"Scared, Delancey?" Jarvan said with a grin. "And here I thought you were a top graduate from the Demacian Martial academy."

"Pardon me sir, but I developed a strategy for encounters like this while patrolling the borders: I call it the FEAR contingency." Delancey took a deep breath to try and calm herself and the looked Shyvana up and down again.

"I don't believe I've heard of that before." Jarvan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Fear..."

"FEAR:" Delancey said with a grin. "Fuck Everything And Run." Jarvan snorted. "If I saw you coming towards me... yeah... I'm gone." She shook her head as Shyvana smiled again, her shoulders shaking slightly with a deep chuckle of her own.

"Some soldier you are." Jarvan said, leaning against Shyvana and grinning at Delancey. "What happened to the Measured Thread? They don't use the little brown book any more?" Jarvan spoke of the handbook that outlined the Demacian Ideology and moral code for new recruits during their three year mandatory service period.

"Oh they still do." Delancey said, running a hand over her head, brushing her bright blue bangs from her face. "But when you're patrolling the border with only small units, it's better to make a tactical withdrawal and call for reinforcements rather than standing and fighting, dying, and then not being able to get any information back to the rest of your unit." She shrugged and sighed. "Luckily we never had to utilize said strategy, but it was always my last resort."

"'Death is inevitable; one can only avoid defeat.'" Jarvan said, quoting the Measured Thread with a think lipped smile.

"Ah, but see, we were avoiding defeat." Delancey said with a grin. "It's wasn't surrender or retreat either." She smiled mischievously. "We were merely advancing in another direction!"

"Straight backwards for the sound of it." Jarvan said with a snort.

"Oh and I'm sure you never ran from anything, right?" Delancey said, giving the prince an annoyed expression. Jarvan opened his mouth to reply, but he froze, clamping it shut after a moment and glancing to the ground, a dark frown now marring his face.

_Too far, Del! Way too far! _Delancey shook her head and stood up a bit straighter, watching as Shyvana nuzzled Jarvan's shoulder gently. The prince sighed and looked back to Delancey, his eyes muted and cold. She felt her heart stop beating in her chest as he glared at her with those eyes, devoid of life and merciless. They weren't normal, they didn't even look human. They were the eyes of a dead man walking.

"I wish I had." Jarvan said flatly. He sighed and then closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. "That was a long time ago." He tried to smile, but Delancey could see the pain in his expression. Shyvana nuzzled his cheek gently, glancing towards Delancey with a mix of curiosity and frustration in her expression. Delancey turned away and decided it better to leave it at that.

"Alright, I'm finished now." Poppy finally said as she flipped through pages of notes. "If you'd like to transform back now, young lady, I have one last thing I'd like to check."

Shyvana nodded and let out a deep breath, steam billowing from her nostrils. Jarvan picked up the cloak and tossed it over her shoulders as she began to shrink. The dark, leathery skin began to pale almost to the color of the snow. Though the cloak barely stretched from side to side of her back, but as she shrunk, the cloak covered her in her entirety. Jarvan helped her to her feet and held her arm as she pulled the cloak over her head. She tugged her braid out from the cloak as well and ran her hands gently over it sighing tiredly.

"Are you alright, Shy?" Jarvan said, as she leaned a bit more heavily on him.

"Yes, I think so." Shyvana said weakly. She shook her head from side to side, "I don't think I've ever had to transform like that though. I usually rely on..."

"Anger?" Delancey said as she held the clothes out for Shyvana. Jarvan gave her an annoyed look, but Shyvana nodded nervously.

"Anger drove me when I was a child and I never learned any other way to control the transformations. Anger and fear, rage... emotions fueled my strength." She looked slightly withered as she tried to take a step and stumbled. Jarvan caught her, lifting her up. "Apologies, Jarvan. I tried to use my own strength this time. It didn't work quite as well as I'd thought. I... I might need to lie down."

"Come on, we'll get you dressed, dear." Poppy said, gesturing for them to follow. "I'll make some cocoa to warm you up."

"Thank you." Shyvana said gratefully.

"We can't impose on you, Ambassador." Jarvan began to say, but the Yordle shook her head and laughed.

"Nonsense." She wore a grin. "As much as you're going to be paying for this set of armor, your highness, the least I can offer you is something warm to drink."

"Thanks." Jarvan said, finally nodding and helping Shyvana inside. They headed upstairs to where the Yordle put a pan on the stove. She poured some milk in and added a few things as well, bouncing around the small kitchen while Jarvan waited in the parlor. Delancey helped Shyvana dress in a side room. Poppy returned to the parlor and set a tray of mugs down on the low table and then pulled herself into a chair that was much too large for herself.

"I must admit, Ambassador, I'm surprised at how well furnished this is." Jarvan said glancing around.

"I make quite a bit on the side as far as my smithing goes." Poppy said, shrugging and gesturing to a loveseat for Jarvan to sit down in. He perched himself carefully as if he was afraid it would break, but as he settled into it, nary a creak escaped. "I sometimes have to receive visitors from Demacia in my private time so I had things brought in that could serve for humans as well as Yordles. When I'm not working with the council or in my shop, and when I don't stay at the Institute, this is as much my home as Bandle city, though I don't get to use it nearly as much as I would like."

"I understand better than you think." Jarvan said, nodding with a bit of a grin. "After I returned, I realized how much I had missed my bed."

"Home is wear the heart is though, is it not?" Poppy said with a wry grin. Her eyes looked to the doors behind which Shyvana had disappeared and Jarvan blushed slightly. "Anyways, It'll take some time to craft the armor." Poppy said, shrugging. "I assume the metal will have to be highly heat resistant?" Jarvan nodded. "That makes it all the more difficult to craft." She shrugged and took a sip from one of the mugs. "There is also the problem of the sizing difference of her transformation."

"You do you mean?" Jarvan said, frowning.

"Well obviously, the suit of mail will have to be enchanted or something to fit her in both forms." Poppy said thoughtfully. "But that does leave the question of how exactly to cause the transformation of the armor when she transforms as well." Poppy said thoughtfully, staring down into her cup. "A heat charm could work perhaps..." The door opened and Delancey helped Shyvana in through the door. She lowered the dragoness down to Jarvan's side and he lifted a mug to her hands.

"Drink that, young one, it'll warm you up." Poppy said happily. "A Yordle secret recipe."

"Thanks." Shyvana said haggardly. She lifted the mug to her face and and sipped at it. She let out a satisfied sigh when she lowered the mug, licking her lips as the steam caressed her face. "It's delicious..." Shyvana murmured, looking down into the steaming mug. She look another sip and let out another sigh of satisfaction.

"The key is dark chocolate." Poppy said grinning. She laughed and pulled out an iron arm guard that looked just large enough to fit around Shyvana's forearm. "I'd like to check something young lady. Just take this and put it on your arm and apply some heat to it." Shyvana looked for a place to put her mug down, and Jarvan held out a hand to accept it. She gave him a smile as a show of thanks.

"Heat?" Shyvana said, accepting the guard from poppy and looking at it. She nodded slowly and then rolled her blouse sleeve up, sliding the gauntlet over her hand. She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at it, but Poppy simply nodded encouragingly. "Alright." Shyvana said hesitantly. She set the mug down and then closed her eyes, her hand beginning to glow a warm orange. Her brow creased slightly as sparks began to flit around her hands, but before the air around her hand could burst into flames, the gauntlet shimmered and expanded to a much larger size. It hung loosely on Shyvana's arm, easily large enough to fit around her thigh now.

"I've never seen armor like this..." Jarvan said, surprised.

"It's special armor that has a second form when it is heated." Poppy said smiling mystically. "It's part iron work and part enchantment magic, and both are difficult to work with." Poppy cackled a bit and then calmed herself. "I didn't think I'd ever actually have a chance to use this craft for anything other than specialty locks, but it seems like it might be the key to a set of enchanted armor for you."

"This is quite amazing." Shyvana said, poking the armor slightly. It rattled a bit and as it finally cooled, it shrunk back to its original size and shape. "It seems perfect." Shyvana said, astounded.

"Ah, I wish it were that simple." Poppy said, chuckling. " I would imagine but there are numerous other charms and enchantments we'll need for it to function properly, but for now, I have what I need to start work on the armor."

"Thank you." Shyvana said, a smile growing on her face.

"I do have one concern." Jarvan said, tapping a finger of the armor.

"What sort of concern?" Poppy said with a frown.

"Well..." Jarvan frowned and then shrugged. "This." He leaned down and kissed Shyvana full on, taking her by surprise, her cheeks immediately flushing a furious red. Jarvan pulled back and watched with a smirk as Shyvana wore a flustered expression, glaring down at the ground, her cheeks now the same shade of red as he hair. The armor expanded again and slid off her arm, clattering as it hit the ground.

"Don't surprise me like that!" Shyvana protested, a mix of affection and annoyance on her face as she glared at Jarvan. He wore a crooked grin and chuckled, Delancey and Poppy joining in as well. Shyvana leaned down to retrieve the armor, fidgeting with it to hide her embarrassment while she waited for it to shrink.

"I see what you mean." Poppy laughed. "I might be able to adjust the threshold to make it hotter. That should solve any problems."

"I will say..." Jarvan mused, looking down at the arm guard as it shrunk back down. "I don't exactly have a problem with self-removing armor." Shyvana's face turned bright red as they laughed at her expense again.

"Jerk." She muttered in Jarvan's direction.

Jarvan smiled. "Well, thank you for your hospitality, Ambassador. I'll sort out the commission as soon as you can get me an estimate."

"I'll see that you do." Poppy said, setting her mug down. "Thank you for stopping by. I'll get to work on the armor right away."

"I appreciate the speed, as always." Jarvan said nodding.

"Don't forget your armor next time you stop by." Poppy said with a snort. "Sounds like it needs just as much work." Jarvan shook his head as they exited the shop. "Take care, prince."

"I will." Jarvan said grinning. "Have a good evening and a Merry Snowdown!" They stepped into the bustling street as Delancey pulled the door shut . The snowfall had slackened, but flakes still fell around the street.

"Anywhere else, sire?" Delancey said, as she frowned, looking over her shoulder. Jarvan frowned as well, meeting her gaze. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she flicked her gaze to the side rapidly, twice in a row. Jarvan gave her an imperceptible nod and the let a large smile break onto his face.

"Not that I can think of..." He said, loudly. "Shyvana?" He looked down to Shyvana and paused, a frown appearing on his face. "Hey, Shy, you alright?" His voice wasn't loud and boastful, it had hardened and there was concern lacing his face. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked sleepy, as if she were still exhausted from the transformation.

"Is that you, Jarvan?" Shyvana said silkily, her voice fluid as she leaned on him and draped her arms around him and pressed against him provocatively. "It's be so long..."

"Let's get back to the barracks then." Delancey said, a trace of worry in her voice. Jarvan frowned, Delancey's hand had slid to her sword on her hip, resting on the grip with white knuckles.

"Of course." Jarvan said, making sure to support Shyvana. She looked up at him with a smile on her face and fluttering eyelids.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana murmured, resting a hand on his arm and sighing softly. "Something feel tingly."

"Tingly?" Jarvan said, blinking a few times. _What?_ Jarvan looked down at Shyvana as she stumbled a bit, leaning heavily on Jarvan's arm. "Come on, Shyvana, let's get you home." He said with a trace of urgency lacing his voice, pulling the dragoness along as gently as he could.

"After you, sir." Delancey said, her voice now icy. She met Jarvan's gaze, her green eyes sparkling dangerously.

There was trouble in the air and Delancey could feel it as well.

Jarvan paused, looking over his shoulder as if he were simply inspecting the street behind him, looking for someone in the crowd. As if on cue, two hooded figures ducked into alleyways, disappearing from sight. Jarvan felt ice coalesce in his stomach.

_We are being followed._


End file.
